


Expect the Unexpected

by Jaxon307



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Jonerys, Not for fans of Catelyn Stark, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Starts before Season 1, Targaryen Connection, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 161,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23858647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaxon307/pseuds/Jaxon307
Summary: When Jorah kidnaps Daenerys in Pentos with the intent of delivering her to Ned Stark, things do not go as planned. When Daenerys ends up under the care and protection of the Starks, how will her presence affect everyone around her with the King baring down on Winterfell intent to get his friend to become Hand of The King.Or What if Daenerys ended up at Winterfell right before the start of season 1, how would she affect things.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow & Robb Stark, Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Robert Baratheon & Ned Stark
Comments: 812
Kudos: 864





	1. Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Hello Everyone! 
> 
> This is going to be my first long-term fanfic so we will see how it goes. 
> 
> My plan is to release one chapter per week so I can give myself enough time to stay ahead and hopefully keep that schedule. But to start I am going to post the first two chapters since they kind of go together.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and more importantly are staying safe during these crazy times. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

**Dany POV**

  


I cringe as I hear my brother's shrieking voice coming from the next room. 

The moment I saw him reach for the wine at dinner, I knew what was coming. 

And it was something I did not want to witness.

I ate as quickly as I could without it being obvious what I was doing. Otherwise Viserys might have awoken the dragon. I finished the stew in front of me and gently excused myself before running and locking myself in my room and sliding down onto the floor, leaning my head back against the slim piece of wood that is my only protection from my vile brother. The only thing I can do is hope he doesn’t come drunkenly seek me out. 

After a few minutes I stood and made my way to where I am currently sitting, the seat closest to the window which overlooks the night time hustle and bustle of the Pentoshi streets. 

_I wonder if I could sneak down there._

I know it is not safe, Illyrio and Viserys have reminded me of that every time I expressed a desire to go into the city. 

I know that they are right, but a small part of me always wonders if anything down there could be as bad as dealing with a drunk, horny and depressed Viserys. 

I let a sigh escape my lips as I curse my last name internally. 

I’m sure there was a time in history when being a Targaryen would have been a blessing. 

A dream even. 

But all it has ever brought me is pain, misery, and people I don’t even know attacking me with hatred in their eyes trying to kill me. 

It has been 17 years since the Usurper and his dogs stole the throne from my family. 

And all 17 years of my life I have been running. 

All I want is a home. 

A place where I can stay with no fear from kings or cutthroats or brothers.

The image of a lemon tree and a red door fly through my mind at the thought. 

I look back at the city once again and come to a quick, if not a little rash, decision.

I grab the big cloak from my expansive closet, making special care to cover my hair, and quietly exit my room before I can convince myself otherwise or think about the consequences. 

I know the route to the back, unmanned door of the manse, a servant had shown me the route a couple months ago. 

Illyrio had wanted me to know the best escape route just in case escape was necessary. 

I am not sure if this counts as necessary, but I am past caring at this point. 

I have lived in fear of Viserys for too long. 

In fear of what he has done to me in the past. 

In fear of what he could do to me still. 

In fear of waking the dragon.

But enough is enough.

_No one intimidates the dragon._

Viserys says that all the time about our enemies. And how he will never back down or be intimidated by our enemies. About how the dragons will always be better than all the rest.

I roll my eyes as I think about my delusional brother. 

I arrive at the door and shove it open. 

Pretty soon I am amongst the drunken crowd. 

Amongst the men and women as they stumble across all the alleys. Going from tavern to a brothel to a tavern to a brothel again. 

Being amongst the crowd brings a smile to my face. The feeling of being anonymous is one I could get used too. 

Of being normal. 

I simply walk around the streets for, I don’t even know how long. I fend off a couple of lewd advances from drunk smelling men, but nobody bothers me that much for the most part, which surprises me. 

I walk just simply enjoying the freedom and anonymity of walking amongst hundreds of people. But eventually my legs start to tire and I decide it is time to head back to the manse. 

As I start the walk back to the expansive manse on the hill that I see in the distance, my smile is continuing to shine on my face. 

The feeling of freedom as I continue to walk keeps the smile shining.

That is until I am yanked forcefully into an alley. 

A shriek escapes my lips but my attacker quickly covers my mouth with his hand, preventing me from screaming for help. 

His other hand forces my two hands together and above my head. 

His muscular frame pushes up against a wall. 

I try futilely to move and punch, but to no avail. 

“Stop squirming!” He snarls at me. 

I freeze, terror overtaking my body at the hatred in his voice. 

My eyes look him over, to see if there is any indication of who he is or why he is doing this, but all I am able to make out of is a bear sigil on his breastplate.

“You are Daenerys Targaryen,” he says. 

It is more of a statement than a question but I still shake my head in denial. 

“Yes you are! Don’t try to deny it.”

He looks around and despite the public nature of our encounter, no one seems to be batting an eyelash at us. 

“I am going to take my hand away now, and you are not going to scream. If you do, I will punch you in the stomach. Do you understand?”

I try to hold his gaze in defiance but he pushes me into the wall with more force, causing my head to knock lightly against the stone I am pushed up against. 

“Do you understand?” He asks again in a lower voice. 

I look around again, trying to find other options but I am not finding any. 

I nod. 

He slowly withdraws his hand and when he is satisfied that I am not going to scream, he reaches behind his back to grab something. 

He pulls out a length of rope and brings my hands that had been above my head, in front of him. 

He starts tying my hands together. 

“There is a ship that leaves the harbor tomorrow morning, we are going to be on it. The voyage is going to take a while and I don’t want to have to have you tied up and gagged for the entire trip, but I will if I need to. Don’t give me any trouble, and you won't end up with bruises all over you, fair?”

_Is it crazy to believe that my kidnapper might be treating me better than my own brother as he never hesitated to give me bruises?_

I nod my head again. 

It is not the best situation, but the best one I can hope for given there is no way I can escape this man’s grasp.

He is too strong. 

“Where is the ship taking us?” I ask after I find my voice. 

He pulls the last knot through and pulls it tight, causing pain to shoot up my arms and a wince to escape my teeth. 

“That is not something you need to know.”

I let out a huff of disapproval but remain quiet. 

He pulls me forward and pushes me into the streets. 

He then pulls his side of the rope attached to my hands and starts leading us towards what I assume is either the docks or someplace for us to sleep. 

Most likely the docks. 

“Will you at least tell me why you are doing this?” I ask him. 

His response is quiet but I hear it nonetheless. 

“Because I want to go home,” he calls over his shoulder.

I release a sigh as I continue to walk behind him. 

“Fair enough,” I say back, resigning myself that this is actually happening. 

A little part of me is happy to be away from my brother. 

He had just told me today that he was planning on wedding me to some Dothraki Kahl. He had started telling me what the Dothraki are like, and what my _duty_ would be, which did not sound pleasant in any form of the imagination and this was in comparison to being with my brother. 

I shudder again at the thought of the incredibly detailed conversation we had only hours ago. 

The other part of me is terrified of what lies ahead of me.

I know that I should not consider ropes and being kidnapped a good thing. Because most likely this whole ordeal is going to lead to my death. 

My brain if working overtime and it cannot come up with a way that this doesn’t end up with me either dead at the hands of the Usurper or of one of his loyal dogs. 

There are not many situations where you get kidnapped and end up in a good place. 

Especially when you are a Targaryen. 

My thoughts are broken as we step onto a ship. 

My kidnapper speaks quietly to one of the crew members before pulling me onto the ship. We walk for a few minutes before we arrive at the cabin, which he pulls us into. 

The cabin does have two beds, but is not much bigger than that, just a small amount of space between the beds and that was it. 

I plop down on the bed and look at my captor. I hold out my hands that are still tied together, indicating that I want the knot undone. 

_I am on the ship now in a small cabin, where could I possibly go._

The rope is starting to dig into my skin and is becoming very uncomfortable. 

He looks up at me, then to my hands before shaking his head no. 

I give him an extremely annoyed look but he just turns and ties the other end of the rope to a post. 

“Why?” I ask him, clearly annoyed. 

“I will untie you once we are away from the dock. Until then I can’t risk you running off,” he states simply. 

I huff but sit down on the bed. 

“So, what is the big plan here? You take me, one of the last two Targaryens, to wherever it is we are going, then what?”

“I’m allowed home, enjoy my time with my family. Try to make up with my father. Though the odds of this working are not very likely, I have no other choice. I have nowhere else to go,” he says sadly. 

“Why is it not likely?” 

“The man I am going to take you to, he is extremely honorable. And also extremely stubborn. He doesn’t change his opinion on people very easily.”

“And who is that?” 

He looks at me but he lets out a sigh. 

“Eddard Stark.”

_Stark._

The name brings pain and anger into my veins. 

“Stark!” 

The name tastes like acid on my tongue. 

He nods his head. 

Any hope that I had that I was anything more than just a walking corpse is quickly extinguished by just that one name. 

“You might as well just cut my throat yourself!”

“I need you alive and healthy, he won’t accept just a dead body, he needs to look you in the eyes.”

“Oh well, at least you thought this through,” I say exasperated. 

On some level I appreciate the blunt honest nature, but the much larger part of me has hatred flowing through me at the unnamed man in front of me leading me to the Starks like a lamb to slaughter and the last part of me fears my oncoming death. 

Because I _know_ that the Starks will kill me. 

That is a fact. 

They are the Starks. 

They are one of the family’s that decimated mine. They are one the usurper's dogs! 

But that thought raises an interesting question. 

“Why not take me directly to the Usurper? Why take me North?”

“Because if I bring you to the King, he might allow me to stay in Westeros, even give me a place at court for bringing him one of the last Targaryens. His hatred for your family is not a secret. But I don’t want to go to Kings Landing. I want to go home.”

He lets out a sad sigh before looking away. 

“I’m sorry for doing this, no one deserves what I am and am going to put you through. No one should be judged and ridiculed for the family's mistakes. Your father may have been a terrible man, but that does not make every other Targaryen the same thing. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I see no other way for me to be able to go home.”

I can see tears in his eyes. 

“Get some sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us,” he says softly. 

I nod my head and lay down on my side, my arms closer to where the rope is tied to the post so as to make it easier on my hands. 

As I close my eyes, I feel a little remorse at the idea that I will never see Viserys again. 

No matter how horrible, abusive or demeaning he could be or how angry he could get, he did keep me alive all my life. 

But the feeling of remorse is replaced by peace as I drift to sleep, heading towards my own death. 


	2. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way to Winterfell, Jorah and Dany run into some trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, Second Chapter! 
> 
> I will post the next chapter next Sunday!

**Dany POV**

**  
**

**  
**

Land. 

Today we are going to arrive in Ramsgate. 

At least that is what Jorah said it was called.

I can see a small town that is surrounded by huge thick trees. 

He went on for what felt like a week about each of the different ports and why Ramsgate was the perfect one to dock at. 

I didn’t listen. 

I just stared at him vacantly and nodded as he went on. 

The journey was long and I never thought I would escape the expansiveness that is the sea. 

It was just water in every direction as far as I could see. 

After a few days of badgering, my captor has relented under my persistence and told me his name. 

Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. 

Bear Island he said was on the opposite side of the North, in the sea to the West of Westeros. 

Even though it most likely just brings me one step closer to my death, I am so excited to be off of this boat. 

We have been on this boat for weeks, and one thing I found out early was that I did not fare very well on boats. 

I threw up every day the first few days. My stomach was not able to keep anything down. Though it eventually got better, every few days I would still get spells of sea sickness. 

As we had been traveling Jorah had started to tell me about the North and all that it entailed and included.

We had nothing to do besides talk, so I learned a lot on our boat ride. 

He told me that the people of the North were as tough and rugged as the terrain is. 

He told me that the North is extremely isolated from the rest of the Kingdoms, and it was basically its own nation, separate from the rest of the kingdoms. 

He talked about how an outsider could never hope to rule the North. It was too wild, too bound to tradition and too loyal to the Starks for any outsider to have a chance to rule over it for any length of time. 

He talked about the Wall and how his Father was the Lord Commander there. 

He talked about the centuries long feud the Nights Watch, and the entire North really, had with the Wildlings. 

He talked about each of the great houses of the North, all of their sigils and their varying degrees of loyalty. 

How the Umbers were considered to be the most fiercely loyal to the Starks, while the Boltons were the most selfish and devious. 

He talked, although reluctantly about how he became banished from the North for engaging in Slave Trade to pay for an expensive wife. 

He talked about the cold. 

Although he didn’t really need to tell me about that one. With each passing day, the temperature went down, and the blankets in our cabin became less and less effective. 

He then talked about the Starks. 

He did not like Eddard Stark very much, that much was extremely clear. 

But other than that, the picture he painted of the Starks and the North in general, does not correlate with the image I had conjured up in my head.

The image Viserys had painted in my head. 

The one that Viserys had drilled into my mind since I was a little girl. 

The Starks, Baratheons, Lannisters and Tully’s were evil houses that rose up and took the throne from our family, specifically from our father for the sole purpose of self-promotion. 

That was what I had heard all my life.

That was what happened. 

That was the truth.

But the way he talked about the Rebellion… it was nothing like that. 

The things he told me blew my mind.

About the burning of the two Stark men by order of my father. 

About how my brother kidnapped and raped one of the Stark daughters. 

_No wonder the Starks rebelled against us._

He also talked about my father. 

_The Mad King._

About his rumored madness, the stories that came along with it and about how he burned people alive for no other reason than it suited him. 

_It did not bode well for my chances of survival._

Viserys had told me about the false lies of our enemies concocted to justify their treason.

My mind kept telling me that these were the exact stories that Viserys told me not to believe because they were lies. 

But if even half of the stories are true, it makes more sense why he was removed.

And why he earned that nickname. 

I did not talk to Jorah for an entire day after he told me that. And a part of me did not quite believe it still. 

_Why should I trust my captor over my brother?_

I decided that I would trust neither version. 

It would make sense that the real truth of what happened is somewhere in the middle of the two stories. That the polar opposites that I had learned from Viserys and Jorah, that when smashed together formed the actual truth. 

I had grown up believing that me and Viserys were the victims and good guys in our own story, and the Usurper and his dogs the villains. 

Cut and dry. 

No gray. 

But in reality, it might be the exact opposite. 

But I still do not know what to believe. 

I do not know which version was true.

If the Starks believe the stories Jorah is telling me, they probably hate the sound of my name the same way I do there’s. Although me and Viserys were too young to have had any impact on it at all. 

But in our world, sometimes that didn’t matter and the last name you carried was all the reason someone needed to kill you. 

“It’s time to go,” Jorah’s gruff voice says from behind me. 

I turn to him and he still has his apologetic look on his face. The same one he has had this entire journey. 

I know he feels bad that he is doing this and on some level I’m sure he is a good guy. 

However, it is really hard to feel bad for your kidnapper that is leading you to your death, just as easily as a butcher would lead a lamb for slaughter. 

“How will we get to Winterfell?” I ask him, still not moving. 

“I have enough money to buy us a horse, that should make the journey there slightly more comfortable and cut our travel time down to about two weeks.”

I nod and we exit our cabin and begin to walk towards the dock we had landed at. 

I am grateful that he does not bind my hands this time. But that is probably because we both know that even if I try to run, it would be pointless. 

I am in enemy territory now surrounded by people who hate my family. 

They will take one look at my hair and not have any hesitation to take my head. 

The cold rushes onto my skin. 

_I really miss the Pentoshi weather._

I pull the cloak Jorah had half stolen for me further around me, trying to brace myself against the bitter cold that was the North. 

_How do people live here?_

I let out a sigh at the thought. 

I miss the weather and heat and vibrant nightlife of Pentos, but the small part of me that did miss my brother was growing smaller by the day.

With each day that passes without his nagging voice over my shoulder or having to live with the constant fear of what the consequences would be if I moved one toe out of line, I feel his presence in my mind slip away. 

I try to shake my head free of the thoughts of when I had stepped out of line as those memories only brought pain, fear and powerful resentment.

Things I already have in plentiful supply. 

All that and I am standing on a dock, thankful my captor didn’t tie my hands up.

_What has my life become?_

The fact that I have been treated with more respect by my kidnapper than I was by my own brother really put into perspective how dominating, controlling and cruel he was to me. 

And how those traits had become normal and regular to me throughout my childhood. 

We exit the boat and Jorah goes and purchases a horse for us to share, along with enough food to make the two-week journey. 

After a few hours, we are ready to head out and I am in between his arms on the newly purchased horse. 

Heading to Winterfell. 

Heading towards my end. 

  


* * *

  


The repetitiveness of our journey is starting to become extremely boring to me. 

I never thought I would say this, but I miss the boat.

At least the sea brought something new every few days, whether that was a new port or fish swimming by our boats. 

But all we saw day after day is trees and snow. 

That’s it. 

Trees and snow. 

Trees and snow.

Nothing else. 

To avoid being spotted, he decided to take us through the forest. 

Jorah did say yesterday that we were ahead of schedule and we should arrive at my death tomorrow. 

He didn’t say it exactly like that but it hung in the air between us all the same. I hope it works for him, because I don’t want to lose my head for just nothing. 

I have just woken up from and we are still sitting around the fire eating our dried-out beef that has become all of our meals these last 11 days. 

“We should get going, if we move fast enough, we should get there around midday.”

I nod my head and make my way over to the horse, who I had named Champion. Jorah quickly swings into the saddle behind me and we set out. 

We are about two hours into our journey when for the first time in weeks, someone other than the two of us makes a sound. 

_Snap!_

The sound is loud and is not that far away. 

“You idiot!”

“It was an accident!”

“Quite down! All of you fuckers!”

The voices were low, gruff and mean sounding. 

“Who are they?” I whisper quietly to Jorah. 

“Wildlings I think,” he says quietly back as I can feel his posture tense. 

He hops down from the horse and draws his sword out of its sheath. 

I stay on the horse terrified.

Not wanting and not able to move. 

I have never even picked up a sword or any type of weapon in my life, so the odds of me being any type of helpful in any sort of fight is low. 

Eventually six people in thick and ragged furs come walking out of the trees slowly. 

One is the biggest man I have ever seen. 

He was standing in the middle of the pack of people, a scowl on his face. The man has probably six inches on Jorah and at least 100lbs. He had dark black hair, a big bulky beard of the same color and a scar on his left cheek. 

They are looking at us with confusion and skepticism. 

“We don’t want any trouble,” Jorah said evenly when the silence stretched on. 

The big man laughed, which caused everyone to laugh along with him. 

“There is trouble. You saw us. That means there is trouble. We can’t be having anyone see us.”

“You keep walking and we won’t tell anyone we saw you. Just continue on your way. A pack of Wildlings moving south is not something we are worried about.”

The big man, who was obviously the leader, looked over us. When his eyes landed on me, a shiver went down my spine. 

His stare was icy and filled with anger.

The same fear grips me as when Viserys would look at me with a similar look whenever I would “wake the dragon.” I know this guy wouldn’t hesitate to take exactly what he wanted the way Viserys would have if he was given the chance. 

He looked back at Jorah. 

“How do you know we are Wildlings?” he asked with a smug smirk on his face. 

“I’m a Northman, I know what Wildlings look like,” Jorah said back to him, sword still raised. 

“Oh yeah and what is your name Northman?” He asked almost laughing. 

Jorah took a deep breath. 

“Jorah,” he said evenly. 

He paused. 

“Jorah Mormont.”

At his last name, the cocky smile dropped on each one of their faces and quickly morphed into anger laced faces. 

“You’re a fucking Mormont! Like the current Lord commander!”

“He’s my father,” Jorah said proudly. 

I was still a little confused but based on what Jorah had told me on the boat, it makes sense that the Wildlings would hate Jorah's family. 

“He hunted us like ANIMALS!” one of the ones to the leaders left snarled. 

“You return the favor if I recall,” Jorah said back to them, no fear in his voice.

The look on each of their faces in front of us were clear that they were not going to be letting us go anytime soon. 

“You said you weren’t looking for trouble Mormont! But unfortunately for you, you found some anyway.”

Each of them moved forward and started to circle us. 

“And when we are done with you, well,” he looked up at me. “Maybe we will have some fun.”

The statement made me freeze and I looked at Jorah. 

He glanced up at me and I could see his regret in his eyes but then he turned back to face his opponents. 

We were completely surrounded.

One rushed at Jorah and he blocked and side stepped right to avoid the one behind him. 

My view of him and what is going on quickly goes away as I am yanked harshly off the horse into the chest of one of the men. 

He had a knife pressed against my throat as he looked into my eyes. 

“Don’t even try to run, or you will regret it.”

I nod frantically, more out of instinct than thought. 

I couldn’t run even if I wanted to. Fear has paralyzed my muscles and is

not letting go anytime soon. 

He grabbed me by the neck and chucked me to the side. 

My body slams into the hard rocky ground and I feel my skin scrape across the ground along my right side. I stay there lying on the ground as the pain starts spreading through my body. The grunts and clanging of steel like a soft whisper in my ears even though it is less than ten feet away. 

I reach down and feel my side and my hand comes back up, little splotches of red liquid on my hand. 

My brain comes back to me long enough to look back at the fight. 

I regret it. 

I look up just in time to see a sword being thrust deep into the chest of Jorah. 

No. 

No. 

No. 

I know what is coming next and I know I can’t stick around for it. But before I can get myself to move or do anything productive, I am yanked upright, this time by my hair. 

“Sorry sweetheart but looks like your hero can’t save you now.”

He reaches down towards his waist and starts untying his pants. 

More on instinct than anything else, I scream. 

A loud, high piercing scream hoping that anyone is around to hear, but I know that nobody will come. 

  


=========================================

**  
**

**Jon POV**

I keep my eyes peeled for any movement. 

Robb is to my right, his bow across his back and his newly forged sword on his hip. 

Ghost and Grey Wind were walking quietly next to us on either side of us. The wolves aren’t too big as of yet but are growing quickly. They have already nearly the size of a regular smaller wolf.

Almost everyone had been sent into the woods to hunt once there was word that the King was riding North. We would need all the help we could get. 

Lord Stark had sent me with just Robb to hunt, which surprised me. He didn’t even send any guards to accompany us. 

Which I didn’t mind. 

I love Robb. 

Well I love all my siblings. 

Even Sansa. 

But anyone else… 

People have always just annoyed me more than anything else. I would rather spend hours hitting a defenseless practice dummy than making fake small talk with people who don’t want to be near me anyway. But all things being considered, I am a little bit excited to be able to go to a royal feast. 

Even if I will just sit at the back of the room. 

I am enjoying the peace and quiet of the woods when Robb decides to ruin it. 

“You excited for the Royal Party?” Robb asks me. 

He never could keep his mouth shut for very long. 

_I guess that’s why we work well together. He never stops talking and I never do. It totally works._

I give him a sideways look of annoyance, but don’t respond, which makes him laugh. 

“Keep glowering like that all the time and it might just become a permanent expression and the ladies might start looking elsewhere.”

The comment gets a huff of laughter out of me, which is rare, I have to admit. 

“What about you?” I ask him. 

“Well it certainly will be interesting. I’m interested to see if the King is still the same man from all the stories. I mean the word now is that he is as fat as a water buff—“

A loud, high piercing scream interrupts Robb’s words. And immediately without even hesitating we both turn our horses and take off in the direction of the scream. 

Both of our Direwolves following close behind us, matching the speed of the horses despite their young age. 

We cut in between the trees and bushes and after a few seconds we see a group of people in a clearing just ahead. 

We swing down from our horses and as we both approach slowly, we draw our swords. 

The scene is not a pretty one. 

There is a man dead on the ground and a young woman on her knees surrounded by six men, who clearly are not being overly friendly. 

Or to overly friendly depending on how you look at it. 

Two already have their cocks out while walking towards the circle of four men. And before we can stop them, not that we wanted to, Ghost and Grey Wind, quite literally went for the jugular of the two men, before ripping out their throats. 

The sound of tearing flesh makes me cringe internally but I do not let my hardened exterior fall an inch. 

The other four men turn and stumble back in surprise a few feet before turning to face us. 

Shock is clear on their expressions before it quickly turns into a limitless fury lining their faces. 

The woman who is being forced to kneel before them is looking up at us with fear and shock in her eyes. Immediately we lock eyes and feel a strong sense of protectiveness over her immediately. 

I nod at her, trying to convey that we are here to help. 

Ghost and Grey Wind are back at our sides, both snarling at the men in front of us, sensing both mine and Robb’s thoughts. 

They both have small cuts along their front two legs, which will probably slow them down slightly but it doesn’t seem like they notice. 

Their snouts are both red from blood, though it is much more obvious on the all-white Ghost than Grey Wind. 

Robb is the first to break the silence. 

“You let her go, and there won’t be any more trouble,” he says to them. 

The one in the middle, who easily has a foot and 100 pounds on both me and Robb laughs. 

“That man said the same thing,” he said, gesturing to the dead man on the ground nearby. “And you see where he ended up.”

Me and Robb glance at each other, not needing to speak.

We already know what we both have decided. 

For a second I allow the nerves of my impending first actual live battle rise up but I quickly squash them and I steel my nerves. 

_I don’t have time to be nervous._

“We don’t want to kill you,” Robb says to them evenly. 

This causes all of them to laugh. 

“Two boys, can’t be older than 17, you think you can kill all of us? You are outnumbered two to one even after your wolves killed those two. You don’t stand a chance. Now turn around and head back and we both forget we saw each other.” 

Robb glances at me and I see the fear in his eyes but I know I am not going anywhere. 

I step forward in front of Robb taking a dominant position. 

“Not going to happen.”

I can feel Robb looking at me, shocked that I said anything, let alone something that definitive but my eyes don’t leave the men in front of me. 

Robb steps up next to me and lets out a quiet nervous breath then steels himself as he looks back at the men. 

“Fine. It is your heads.”

It is a snarl more than actual words, but the man’s message is clear all the same.

He pulls the woman up so she is standing next to him, holding her close to his body and I can see the tight grip he has on her arm. 

It lights a fury inside me. 

The other three start to make their way forwards. 

Ghost and Grey Wind snarl and move forward as well. 

“No, if we are going to do this properly, those beasts stay put,” the big one says holding a knife he pulled from his waist and puts it to the girl’s throat. 

We would win with the wolves. 

Everyone here knew that. 

Without them, our chances dwindled considerably. 

But the whole point of this was to save the girl. 

“Ghost, stay,” I snarl reluctantly. 

I feel Ghost’s resistance but he eventually sits down, though he is still barking ferociously. 

I look over at Grey Wind and see him doing the same thing. 

The three start walking forward again. 

I see two start to go towards Robb, which I cannot let happen. 

I have always been better in two on one situations, so I need to get the third to come at me rather than Robb. 

“Hey buddy,” I call to the middle one who breaks his stare down with Robb and looks at me. “Your friend here is going to need help here in a second.” 

They both snort in disbelief. 

“If you want to die first, that’s fine.” 

His voice held laughter and disbelief but luckily he takes the bait and starts turning on me. 

Robb is square with his man. 

I look at the two in front of me. 

Both are bigger and wider than me but do not seem to be very quick on their feet, so I will need to be quicker. They both also only have shorter swords, compared to mine, so I need to keep my distance. 

My sword may not be the highest in quality as it is one, I found in the back of an old storage shed and it is close to 20 years old, but I know how to use it and I take good care of it. 

I wait patiently for them to make the first move. 

And one thing Ser Rodrick always taught us is that mind games are just as important as the sword. 

An angry opponent is an easy opponent as he would say. 

“I guess you two are just too cowardly to attack a kid,” I say to them. 

They both snarl and begin to charge at the same time. 

They both swing at the same time and I block both with my sword. I push back on them and the force sends them both backwards a couple of steps. 

They are both obviously very surprised at my strength. Obviously not expecting me to have the strength to be able to push them both back at the same time. 

I just stand there swinging my sword around. 

Taunting them. 

This time the beardless one attacks first. 

I duck under his swing and punch him in the stomach. 

His quick inhales trying to get a full breath fill the air before I grip his shoulder and huck him towards a tree behind me. 

The other man is not far behind, but his swings are long and slow. 

His arms are obviously not as strong as they look. 

He slashes down from my left trying to get me across the chest but I send his swing to the side and my sword is just long enough to slash him lightly along his chest. His pain sends him backward away from me stumbling back a few feet as a grimace forms on his face.

The second one is back up again and is trying to attack me from behind me before I can notice, but unfortunately his footsteps are nothing close to quiet. 

When I feel his swing nearing, I duck under it and grab him by the shoulder again. I glance quickly to see the other guy preparing to attack and send him headfirst into the guy who had just been able to stand. 

The two bonk heads and go flying to the ground.

Both try to stand right away but they both are quite clearly shaken. 

“You two idiots are letting a kid mop the floor with you!”

I glance to where Robb is still struggling with the man who he is facing. The man is clearly much better than both of the idiots I’m facing. 

I look just in time to see the man slice Robb right along the front of his stomach. 

I see the blood start to immediately seep through his fine leather clothes. 

Robb’s groan fills the air around me.

The cut is semi deep though it doesn’t seem to be dangerous or life threatening on its own, it will certainly slow him down. 

The wildling takes advantage of his momentary opening and slashes down along Robb’s left shoulder. Robb barely gets his sword up just in time to block what would have been a crucial blow, but the power behind the strike makes Robb trip and fall back onto the ground with another pained groan. 

Clearly shaken up. 

My eyes go wide for a second before I start stomping over. 

The man has his back to me. 

“Beck!” Someone behind me screams in alarm, but it is too late. 

I thrust my sword into his back, right where I know his heart is located. 

The man, _Beck_ I guess his name is, falls to the ground in a helpless pile. Dead before he hits the ground. 

I don’t have time to think about the fact that I just killed my first man because Robb starts trying to stand back up. 

“Stay down!” I say to him forcefully. 

“It’s just a scratch,” he says, wincing. 

“Yes! And I’m not letting you get another one! Stay down!”

“Jon you are not doing this alone!” he says, remaining stubborn starting to stand again.

“Stay down! And if something happens, get her if you can, get to the horses and get back to Winterfell. You are too important!”

I still see the stubbornness in his eyes, but it is now joined with trepidation. 

“You know I’m right!” I say to him, trying to give him my best “taking no shit,” look I can. 

I know if this was just his choice he would stand and fight again, but unfortunately for him I’m making it my decision. 

After a few seconds he nods reluctantly and I turn back to the three left, the big one still has not given any indication of joining the fight, and based on the size of him, that’s good for me. 

He still has the blonde firmly in his grasp. 

“Ghost, Grey Wind protect,” I say to both Direwolves and they easily comply by standing in front of Robb. 

“Which one of you is next,” I snarl and raise my sword. The two whose asses I already kicked come walking slowly at me. 

The one with a gash across the chest seems to be walking slower than his partner. The beardless one approaches with a fury in both his steps and his swing looks like he is trying to break my sword with one single swing of his sword. 

The jolt from the impact sends a sharp sting up my arm but I don’t have time to feel pain right now. 

I send the sword to the side as the other man approaches. My sword gets up just in time to block his sword but I feel the steel graze my left forearm all the same as it retreats. 

The red liquid starts dripping very slowly down my arm from the small gash. I don’t have time to feel the pain that comes along with it as I have two swords aimed for my head. 

I duck under them and bring my sword down across the beardless one’s back, earning a loud groan of pain from him as he goes stumbling to the ground. 

I turn and face my other foe head on and wait for him to come to me again. 

We enter a small dance as I stay on the defensive, wanting to tire him out. 

Letting his injury and size slow him down. 

It isn’t too long before I see my opening and run my sword through his stomach. 

He gasps in surprise, looking for air.

He collapses onto his knees as I withdraw my sword. 

I look down at him and his helpless eyes stare back at me. 

For a second, I almost feel bad, then the image of the woman on her knees with a terrified look on her flashes through my mind and the feeling disappears. 

Instead my vision narrows and I am quickly overtaken by a primal rage. 

I regrip my sword and without hesitation take his head clean off his shoulders. 

The big one is starting to get angry and worried if his expression says anything. 

But he simply squeezes the woman’s arm tighter, so tight I’m sure it will bruise. 

The beardless one is now up again but is clearly wary of approaching and is in considerable pain. 

He knows he is outmatched but is too proud to back down. 

He charges me but almost half-heartedly. I grab his wrist as it tries to swing his sword down. 

I give it a small twist until I hear the snap of his wrist and he screams in pain before I plunge my sword into his chest. 

His body joins his two friends as lifeless lumps on the ground as I pull my now extremely blood red coated sword from the depths of his chest. 

I breath out a few times, trying to calm myself down and put whatever rage that had come out, back into its cage. 

When I am finally able to calm down a little, I turn back to the group. 

Robb is still behind the protective wall of Ghost and Grey Wind. He is looking at me with concern shining in his eyes, while the big man is walking forward dragging the woman with him although she tries to resist, dragging her feet and punching his arm. 

“Your good kid I will give you that,” not seeming to even notice the resistance of the girl dragging behind him.

“I don’t need compliments, just give her to us and we will be on our way.” I say to him raising my sword again. 

Slight fatigue is starting to seep into my arms, but I know that I don’t have time to worry about that right now. 

He laughs before transforming his face into what is the equivalent of a monstrous expression. 

“You just killed the last few men I consider family. That does not go unanswered.”

“You tried to rape a helpless innocent young woman, that doesn’t go unanswered either.”

He then chucks the girl to the side near the spot Robb is standing with a hand on his side, where he had used part of his cloak to stem the bleeding. 

I can see pain on his face but Robb quickly crouches down by her head. 

I lock eyes on the small blonde’s frame. 

The girl can’t seem to move her eyes off me. Nor I her. I give her what I hope is a genuine smile, before finally breaking our eye contact and turning back to the man in front of me. 

I raise my sword and prepare myself for the fight that I know very well could be my last. 

  


* * *

  


**Robb POV**

  


I crouch near the girl immediately, ignoring the radiating pain in my side. 

I had been able to slow` the bleeding mostly, and luckily it won’t be an issue anytime soon but the pain did not seem to be going away anytime soon.

I don’t like being relegated to the sidelines. 

It makes me feel useless. 

But if there was one thing, I had learned in my life experience with Jon, it is when he is angry or riled up, you don’t even try to argue with him. 

This definitely counted as one of those times. 

So, when he looked at me like he might kill me if I tried to fight again, I stayed down and behind the Direwolves. 

Albeit extremely reluctantly. 

“Are you okay?” I ask the woman. 

But it is as if she doesn’t even hear me. 

She is looking up at Jon. 

I look at her eyes and I am surprised to see her bright purple eyes filled with admiration and fear at the same time. 

I turn to Jon and he is smiling down at her, in the most genuine way I have ever seen him do in all my years I have known him, which is all of them. 

He then turns back to the biggest man I have ever seen and for a second, the selfish part of me is glad he made me stay down. But then I realize he is going to face the man alone and fear returns to grip me. 

I want to stand and fight but the logical part of me keeps me down for now. 

But I know that part only has so much power over my actions.

I have always been told I am an extremely emotional person. 

I am already injured and would most likely just get in Jon’s way.

At least that is what the logical part of my brain is trying to get me to believe, for my own sanity. And he was right, I couldn’t be reckless with my life. 

“Are you alright?” I ask the woman leaning on my arms again. 

She seems to hear me this time and looks up at me. 

I see the frightened look on her face, and if it wasn’t for the fact that we had fought for her freedom only minutes ago, she would probably try to run away if her eyes are any indication, which I wouldn’t fault her for.

She shakes her head no at me before looking back up at the fight that is being raged before us. 

I feel both Ghost and Grey Wind getting more and more agitated but they both remain seated in front of me, both looking onto the fight intently. 

Jon seems to be doing okay, but I can see he is getting a little tired. 

_He has already killed three of them._

That seems so weird to think about. 

_My brother is a killer._

For the first time blood is spilled in the fight when the Wildling punches Jon across the face. Blood flies out of his nose. The man grips his shoulder and sends him flying into a tree. 

I feel anger flood my brain and I do my best to stay put, but it is getting harder. 

A gasp escapes the woman, while growls can be heard from both me and the wolves. 

I see Jon spit out blood onto the ground.

The sound of the wolves growl makes the man turn towards us with a smirk before walking over to Jon who is still trying to get up from the blow of smacking into a tree. 

The man reaches down casually to pick up Jon but is shocked when Jon sends a hard right fist flying into his chin, sending him tumbling backwards. 

Jon shakes out his hand. 

_That must have hurt._

I see Jon then look around and spot his sword on the ground. 

He turns and looks at us. 

I see fear in his eyes, along with a resigned pride as well. 

He then turns back to the man in front of him who had recovered from the blow and has squared himself up with Jon again. 

Only one thought is on my mind.

_You better make it through this Jon._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Let me know how I'm doing! 
> 
> Talk to you soon!


	3. The Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fight rages on and on the journey back to Winterfell brings people closer together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> I'm not entirely sure if I love all of how this chapter turned out but I'm curious to see what you guys think! 
> 
> Let me know!

**Dany POV**

I am still on the ground, propping myself up on some random dude’s arms. 

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. 

I am too engrossed in the fight in front of me. 

I still don’t know who the two men were who showed up out of nowhere to save me from my horrible fate. 

I don’t know who they are, where they are from or even what their names are. 

But they had saved me from the Wildlings, so they, at the very least, are better than the men who had me. 

While the skeptical part of me wanted me to worry about the fact that I was immediately trusting two strangers. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter at this point.

But the weird part is I feel that I trust them beyond that. There was something about the way they had looked at me. With such concern and care despite not knowing at all who I was or how I had ended up in my current situation.

More the black-haired one looked at me that way than the auburn-haired one to be fair.

The big man’s yelp of pain breaks me out of my thoughts as the black-haired man's blade slices deeply across his left arm. 

“He will be okay, won’t he?” I say quietly. 

I am horrified by how soft and vulnerable my voice is but given what I have gone through today, I think it is warranted. 

The last thing I do not want to see is someone else die trying to protect me. 

“I wish I could tell you yes,” the man supporting me says worriedly. “But if anyone can win, it’s my brother. He is a tough son of a bitch.”

I look up at him then back at the man fighting. 

“You don’t look much like brothers,” I comment. 

It is true, and it is not just their hair color, but their facial structures as well are different. 

He looks at me then at the ground in shame before he turns his eyes back to the fight. 

“We’re technically half-brothers,” he says quietly. 

I am smart enough not to pry as it is clearly a sensitive subject but half-brothers make a lot more sense. 

The fight continues, no man really getting the advantage, mostly they go back and forth, blocking then attacking. 

The more they go at it the more anxious and agitated the two wolves in front of us seem to be getting. 

Especially the all-white one. 

“Why don’t you join him? You have a sword,” I ask. 

I’m sure my tone is not the best and I am hoping it is not conveying judgement because I truly am just curious. 

Something is telling me that he does not seem like the kind of person to sit idly by as his brother is in trouble like he is right now. 

“I already got slashed along my side and would not be nearly as helpful and would most likely just slow my brother down. He has always been very independent and a bit of a loner. Plus, everything would get a lot more complicated if I were to get seriously injured or die, so I need to think about the greater good. Plus, no one argues with him when he gets angry or agitated, and he is clearly both right now.”

_More complicated?_

“What do you mean more complicated?” I ask as we both watch both men stand a few feet away from each other, both of them simply looking over the other as they both gather their breath. 

He clearly did not want me to ask that question based on the look on his face but he answers it anyway. 

“If the Stark heir were to die right now, at a time like this, it would not be good. So, if something happens, we are going to high tail it to the horses and get out of here. We’ll then come back out here with 40 men and track the fucker down.”

_Stark._

They were Starks?

“You're a Stark?” I ask quietly. 

He scoffed a little bit, not taking his eyes off the fight. 

“You must not be from around here if you don’t know that,” he said snarkily with a lot of judgement in his tone. 

I scoff back at him which draws his attention. 

“I’m from Pentos, so I’m definitely not from around here,” I say snorting back matching his tone. 

He is thrown by the response as for the first time in a long time he looks down at me rather than up at the fight like we both had been. I glance up to meet his eyes and see his bright blue ones staring back at me. 

I let out a small barely there laugh, so quiet the man in front of me doesn’t even hear it, as my brain sends a thought to the front of my mind. 

So, a Targaryen is being protected and defended by two Stark men. 

“If you are from Essos, what are you doing here sneaking around the woods in the North?” 

It is a fair question but I know if I tell him now, he might just drop me and walk away, which would not be good. Luckily, I am saved from having to answer by a loud painful groan filled the air around us making us both turn back to the fight to see the younger man holding his face where a slice has left blood flowing freely down his right check slightly. 

Robb tried to get up and move forward, almost on instinct, only to be blocked by the Grey wolf that was in front of us. The white one not paying any care or attention to us as he creeped forward.

The man next to me tried to move again but with the wolf set in his path, the man backed up and returned to just watching the fight but with a deep scowl on his face. 

He can talk about the greater good and needing to leave if something happens all he wants but based on how he is acting, I can tell that is probably the last thing he is going to do.

Another loud groan by the black-haired Stark is heard as the Wildling slices deep along his leg. 

So deep the sword disappears inside the flesh a couple of inches. 

It is honestly a disgusting sight. 

If all three of us make it out of this alive, it is going to be shocking. 

  


* * *

**Jon POV**

  


My face is bleeding. 

My back is hurting from being thrown into a tree. 

My quad is burning where he sliced through my pants and left a deep gash halfway down my leg and I can already feel the power leaving my leg. 

And my right hand is throbbing from punching the guy's jaw. 

_Just another day._

He swings right again and I block. 

Again. 

My muscles are starting to tire out and I seem to have been on defense for most of this fight. 

And I know I need to finish this soon or I won’t be able to raise my sword anymore. 

The problem is he is strong. 

Stronger than anyone I have faced. 

He is also quicker than I expected for someone of his size. 

He brings his sword down on mine again and I feel my muscles start to give way but I pull it together and summon my strength before pushing back on the sword and send him stumbling a few feet backward. 

When he regains his feet, he looks back at me with a stunned look for a second, clearly as surprised as I am, I was able to push him anywhere. But the look is gone quickly and he raises his sword to me again. 

He starts his attacks again. 

Charging at me with more fury and power than before. 

I feel the blood slowly dripping onto my cheek, I’m lucky that the cut was not above my eye, or the blood would start getting my eye. 

I am able to keep blocking his blows and backing up, but I know the time I will be able to keep that up is dwindling. 

And fast. 

His moves are strong, but swift enough that I am unable to get inside. 

He moves right and our swords lock together. 

Before I can even blink, I feel myself go flying backwards and slam into the ground as the air leaves my body. 

I quickly come to the conclusion that he kicked me in the chest as I move to stand. Expected he would be on me quickly but when I pull myself up, he is standing a few feet away looking down at me.

He probably expects me to just stay down. 

I know I want to. 

But I can’t. 

_Get back up again._

The mantra I have said in my head thousands of times plays in my head one more time. 

It is something that Father said to me years ago and it has always stuck with me. 

I feel Ghost in my head almost start to attack but I know he has no shot of beating this guy by himself. And if he comes, Grey Wind comes. And if Grey Winds comes, Robb comes. And I can’t have that. I reach out to him and with a strong amount of resistance get him to relent and stay where he is guarding Robb. 

I feel air refill my lungs and I put the sword in the ground and use it as a crutch to stand again and look at the scene in front of me.

I come to full height and raise my sword in front of me. 

He snarls and raises his sword again and attacks me again. 

The problem is that not only does he have the edge in experience, he is also probably more skilled than me on top of it. 

He has me on the run and he knows it. I keep backing up and giving ground until I thud into something.

I realize he has me pinned up against a tree. 

The constant barrage of strikes is weakening my arm substantially as he is putting his full weight behind each strike, and with my back up against a tree and getting no reprieve from the constant barrage, my arm is weakening fast. 

He smirks in between blows. 

A smirk I want nothing more than to knock off of his face. 

He raises his sword to strike again and brings it down hard one more time and I feel the strength leave my arm when we connect and the sword goes clattering to the ground. 

I look up at him terrified and he smirks at me again. 

My brain goes into overdrive trying to think of options. 

But I find none. 

He doesn’t just kill me like I thought he would.

Instead he punches me square in the stomach, forcing all the air out of me. And I am left struggling to get an entire breath. 

But before I can even manage that he punches me again. This time connecting hard with my ribs and breathing suddenly becomes much harder and painful instantly. 

He looks at me with a smile and raises his sword to my throat.

Each breath hurts. 

“You have fought me better than anyone else has in a long time. Not many people could have taken that many hits and still kept going.”

He punctuates the statement with another punch to the ribs.

“But unfortunately… you, your friend and your girl are all going to die.”

He punches me again in the face this time, leaving my eye swollen. 

“Because you weren’t good eno—“

“Jon!” 

Robb’s yell pierces through his speech. 

It is followed by two snarls. 

We both look at the sounds to see the pair of Direwolves snarling at us. 

Or more accurately at him. 

He huffs as if they are more of an annoyance than a threat. 

Robb is standing menacingly behind them while the woman is standing behind him. 

He turns back to me and grabs me by the throat. 

“You are going to be wide awake when I take your head, but it appears that your beasts over there are going to prove to be a nuisance.” 

He then slams my head against the tree and everything goes black. 

  


* * *

**Dany POV**

I see his lifeless body slide to the ground. 

_His name is Jon apparently._

The Wolves take off running. 

The white one running slightly faster than the grey. 

The sounds they are making are going to give me nightmares. 

_As if the rest of this day didn’t do that already._

The brother standing near me is quick to run after them, sword raised and a stormy look on his face. 

All thoughts of getting out of here are lost in the wind like I thought they would be. 

I contemplate running. 

But somehow that would seem like a betrayal to both of them. They came and saved me. Have risked their lives and repay them by running. 

Although they saved me once earlier, it did not look good at this point that they would do it again. 

The twin snarls from the wolves breaks me from my thoughts and back to the fight in front of me. 

The wolves both lunge at the man at the same time. 

The white one sinks his teeth into his leg, but the grey one yelps in pain as the Wildling’s sword slices along his side and I see the red start to bleed onto his grey fur. 

The white wolf sinks his teeth deeper into his leg bringing a groan of pain from the man before he lets go and runs protectively in front of his pack mate, joined soon by the red headed man with a wound in his side. 

“Your friend over there, he fought well, but he was uninjured and had lots of energy. You on the other hand are injured and look ready for some sleep rather than a fight.”

The Wildling raises his sword at him the same way he did to his brother. 

Anyone with a brain could see he had no chance against the big man. 

_He is brave at the very least._

But that same bravery is about to get him killed.

“When the snows fall, and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies. But the pack survives,”

the Stark says, his voice as cold as ice. 

He then runs at the big man, who is simply just standing there. 

When he lowers his sword to strike, the Wildling simply reaches out and catches the sword in his right hand. 

The slicing of flesh is loud enough for everyone to hear. 

But his face gives no indication of pain at all. 

He kicks the white wolf who was coming towards him and sends the wolf flying back. The sound of the wolf smacking his head against the tree is loud and sounds extremely painful.

You can see the wolf is shaken as his immediate attempts to stand fail. 

While dealing with the wolf the red head had been trying to pull his sword back, but the Wildling's grip was too strong. He then grabs the boy's arm and flings him back towards the black-haired boy who is still passed out on the ground and he crashes back first into the tree. 

The crossbow that had been on the red head’s back goes flying up off his back and scatters away from him. 

The big man then simply chucks the sword that was stuck in his hand to the side before turning back to me. 

“I think it’s about time we have our fun now,” he says with a sickening grin that had my stomach turning. 

I back up slowly but go crashing to the ground when I trip on a rock. 

The pain in my lower back is nothing compared to the crippling fear that has overtaken me again. 

_So many dead, all just trying to protect me._

A disgraced Targaryen. 

“So many heroes lay fallen on the ground. All to protect some useless little girl. You must be someone pretty special to have so many brave men falling for you.”

_I am a dragon._

_No one intimidated a dragon._

I try to stand but he shoves me back down. 

“No sweetheart, you are going to be much more helpful down there.”

He laughs as he looks over me like I’m a piece of meat. 

“Don’t worry, all of your pain will be over soo— Ahhhhhhh!”

He quickly goes from talking confidently, to down on a knee in clear pain. 

I look behind him and the black-haired boy, Jon, is standing with the thrown cross bow pointed at us. 

Almost all of his weight on one of his legs and blood caked onto his face from the cut on his upper cheek. 

I see him reach down towards the ground and pick up another arrow. 

The wildling stands, although with some effort and turns back towards Jon. 

Jon draws back the bow and aims it again at him. 

“If you think that an arrow will stop me from killing--”

He is cut off as another arrow pierces his left shoulder. 

The wildling howls in pain as he looks at the arrow sticking out of him and collapses back onto one knee. 

Jon starts stalking over. 

Still leaning heavily onto one leg as he walks. 

The look on his face is stormy and determined. 

His walk is slow but the big man is struggling to stand, so he keeps his pace slow and deliberate. 

I slowly stand, keeping my eyes trained on the Wildling who is still struggling to do anything other than get off his knees.

But Jon is still 20 feet away when the Wildling stands again, clearly weak and in pain but he looks ready for a fight. 

Jon stops where he is and draws back the arrow that was already connected to his bow and aimed.

But instead of firing, Jon stands there.

Not moving. 

Not firing. 

Just looking at him with a calm cool expression. 

Like he was aiming at a target not another human. 

_What is he waiting for?_

“Don’t think I am going to go down eas—" the wildling starts but he is soon interrupted by Jon firing his arrow and finding its target. 

Lodging itself deep in his chest sending the wildling back to the ground. 

Jon keeps the bow up to his eye for a few seconds before lowering it and dropping it to the ground.

He then resumes his slow stalk over towards us. 

The same nonexpression on his face. 

Like all of this was completely normal to him. 

When Jon comes in front of the man, the man still tries to swing his right arm but Jon catches the weak swing before grabbing the man’s wrist and giving it a hard quick twist. And a sharp cracking sound quickly fills the air, followed by another gargle of pain from the man still on his knees, his body wanting to scream but quickly shutting down. 

Jon lifts the man’s head up so he is looking into his eyes, but his eyes are barely open. 

“Next time you have the chance to kill someone. Don’t hesitate.”

If he was going to respond he was cut off (literally) when Jon brought his sword swiftly through the man’s neck. 

Jon lets out a few sharp breaths until he turns and looks at me. 

His eyes are wild and fierce. But somewhere in them I find a small sense of regret and sadness. 

He turns away from me, not saying a word, still swaying slightly on his feet. And still heavily limping as well. But just as he starts to walk towards his brother's lying form, his path is cut off by the big white wolf with bright red eyes.

Jon’s instincts are still very much active as he immediately raises the sword in his hand. 

“Ghost!” He says with relief lowering his sword. 

He collapses down to one knee in front of the wolf and starts petting his head with care. 

“You alright?”

The wolf responds by licking his face. 

Jon then lets out a laugh and rubs his head again. 

The touching moment is interrupted by a loud groan coming from the red head on the ground as I see him from where I am standing roll over onto his back. 

The sound snaps Jon from his conversation with his wolf to his brother. 

“Robb!”

With some help from his wolf, he stands from his spot on the ground and as quickly as he is able to, makes his way over to his brother before coming to a knee again beside him. 

_Robb and Jon Stark._

I walk closer to them slowly so I can hear what they are saying but still far enough away where I am not intruding. 

“I told you to stay back!” Jon said fiercely to his brother. 

All he got in return was a groan. 

Jon helped him sit up and then leaned his brother up against the tree. 

“Next time I tell you to stay back, just listen to me.”

“No! If I see someone about to kill you, I will never hesitate to jump into the fight. No matter how injured I am. Father raised us better than that.”

Jon let out a sigh but didn’t press the issue any further. 

“You all right?” Jon asked. 

Robb let out a small laugh, then groaned in pain. 

“Well my back hurts, my side is still bleeding, though not as much as before but it still hurts like a bitch, but other than that I’m good.”

“What about Grey Wind?”

Robb closes his eyes for a second then looks back at Jon. 

“He’s fine, the wolves heal faster than us.”

I wonder for a second how he possibly could have known that while lying against a tree but the thoughts leave when Jon looks back at me. 

He has bruises forming in his face, and the blood from the cut on his face has dried and has left large blotches of blood all over his face. 

We stare at each other again. 

It looks like he is having trouble breathing based on his short breaths, but he is choosing to ignore it as his face is giving away no indication that he is in pain. 

Jon breaks our eye contact to turn back to his brother. 

“Here I am lying against a tree after what you just went through. Are you okay?” the one against the tree said.

Jon looked to the side and got a very solemn look on his face. 

“I’m alright. Chest hurts a bit,” he says simply.

But based on what I am seeing, he is dramatically understating how much pain he is in. 

“Can you stand? We need to start heading back before the search parties get too extreme.”

The red haired one laughs softly again, cut off by a grimace before shaking his head. 

Jon grasps his arm and pulls him upright, both of them grimacing as they did so, Jon continuing to put most of his weight on his right leg and instinctively brings a hand to his chest. 

They both turn towards me, curious looks on their faces as if they are looking at me for the first time. 

Robb steps forward and looks me up and down. 

“So now that this is done, what is your name so I can stop calling you “young woman” in my head,” he says easily, with a joking tone. 

The comment brings a smile to my face despite what we all just went through. 

“Well I’ve been calling you red-head in my mind if it makes you feel any better,” I say back to him snarkily. 

Much to my relief he lets out a chuckle and smiles at me. 

We both glance over at Jon to see his serious face unwavered at the banter. 

A small part of me is angry at his inexpression and it must have shown as Robb answered the question I was not going to ask. 

“Don’t mind him, him smiling is as rare as seeing the North without any snow on the ground. It doesn’t happen often but is always a welcome surprise.”

Jon looked at his brother with annoyance but his face had the smallest hint of a smile which for him it sounded like was a victory. 

“My name is Robb, by the way.” 

I give him a small smile before Jon cuts in.

“So, what is your name?” Jon asked. 

His rough and deep voice was a pleasant surprise. 

I look down at my feet, knowing that whatever friendliness will disappear at my true name. 

I don’t answer and simply look down, letting an awkward silence fill the air between us. 

“Why do you need to know?” I ask, continuing to look down trying to stall. 

I hear Robb snort in surprise. 

“Because we just saved you and I would like to know how a girl like you ended up coming here from Pentos of all places,” he says simply. 

I keep my eyes down, racking my brain for a way out but knowing I have none.

“Like me?” 

My voice is quiet and meek but the fear has a tight grasp on my body and it does not seem to be going away anytime soon. I do not know if they heard me or not but the awkward silence returns until I hear Robb chuckle to cut through the silence. 

I can still hear the chuckle in his voice as he starts to talk.

“Man, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you were a Targaryen. You certainly have the look of one,” he said, punctuating his statement with a chuckle. 

I feel my eyes involuntarily flicker up at his statement and my eyes catch Jon’s for a moment before I look back down at the ground.

The need to run or flee is quickly growing but I know it is futile. 

Even injured and tired they would catch me, and even if they didn’t there is no way I would survive in the wilderness alone, with no horse and no food. 

But I still slowly take a few steps back, hoping the few extra feet will keep them from picking up anything. 

_It's not like it matters._

I have known I was dead from the second Jorah kidnapped me in Pentos. Just because he died doesn’t change anything. I can feel the weight of their stares at me and I can feel their scrutiny bearing down on me. 

“Your name is Daenerys, isn’t?”

I glance up again, and shock is clear on my face again I’m sure. 

The voice that had brought a small amount of pleasure just a couple of minutes ago, now brought the exact opposite. 

Fear and Panic. 

Jon is looking at me, with the same calm collected brown eyes.

I look back to the ground, not wanting to respond, but knowing that this time I had no choice. 

So, I slowly nod my head in affirmation as I continue to look down, refusing to look into their eyes again.

“Wait!”

Robb’s voice is filled with anger and confusion as the rocks on the ground continue to get my full stare. 

“You’re a fucking Targaryen!”

“Robb calm down!” the same collected voice says but Robb is having none of it.

“Calm down! Jon, we almost died protecting the enemy.”

The instant hatred in his voice is surprising to me and makes me take another step back.

But I still do not raise my eyes from the ground. 

“And how do you think she feels to be in the North, Robb? Near Winterfell and the Starks. From her perspective, we are the enemy Robb!”

“But she is a Targaryen,” Robb says back with less fire in his voice. 

“And you're a Stark. But to my knowledge neither of you fought in the Rebellion. And if my memory serves me correctly, she wasn’t even born for most of the Rebellion. I don’t see an army with her, so she is not here to attack us. So just calm down!”

I look up finally and my eyes find Jon’s again for just the smallest second but I hope he still sees my gratitude in my stare. 

Robb looks at Jon then to me and then back to Jon then to me again. 

He looks at me suspiciously until he lets out a breath and sags a little, the fury draining out of him, but his body is still rigid and on high alert. 

Jon looks at him for a second, then turns back to me. 

“So, last we heard the last two Targaryens were running around Essos from assassins sent by the King. How did you end up here?”

Jon may have stuck up for me but I can tell that he is still not completely convinced. 

I look behind me to where Jorah’s body is still laying on the ground. 

The fear I have been feeling since this whole journey began is still a constant presence in my bones. 

I’m sure my voice is still weak and filled with fear and honestly I am not sure if it will come to me at all, but as I stare back in Jon’s eyes, I feel the slightest, smallest bit of my fear disappear for a moment and it gives me the confidence to answer him. 

“I was kidnapped by that man over there while we were staying in Pentos. He said his name was Jorah Mormont.”

At the name, the brothers look at each other like they recognize the name then look back at me. 

“He was bringing me to Winterfell in hopes of being allowed home to... Bear Island, I believe it was. We've been traveling for weeks through this forest when these fine gentlemen decided to pay us a visit here in the woods. They killed him and were going to do God knows what to me when you two came along. I can’t thank you both enough for that. You saved me from a horrible fate. Thank you both.”

Jon looked uncomfortable at the praise while Robb looked grateful, although he is still cautious and his body was still in a guarded position. Though less than before. 

“Well don’t thank me, it’s this guy who did all the heavy lifting.” Robb said to me, nudging Jon, but he catches his chest which causes a small whimper of pain to escape Jon. 

“Well, that’s not what we are going to tell people,” Jon said matter of factly through gritted teeth. 

“What?” Robb asked, shocked and confused. 

But Jon simply moves on like he didn’t hear his brother. 

“We better go, we’re bleeding and you look like you could use some food and the warmth of a fire. Let’s go, we'll take you to Winterfell.”

I don’t move when they turn to walk. 

They walk a few more steps before seeming to realize I hadn’t moved. 

I don’t say anything, but my non-movement is enough of a statement. 

The brothers are nice, but there are probably hundreds of people where we are going that will not be as nice. 

Hundreds of people who will react like Robb and Jon will not be able to talk all of them down. 

He is looking at me with a question in his eyes, but after a few seconds he seems to figure it out and the smallest smile lights up his face. 

“No one will hurt you; I promise. Right Robb?” Jon calls out over his shoulder. 

Robb looks between us, but his questioning gaze softens as he turns back to us fully. “No one will hurt you along as I’m around,” he says honestly. 

I know that even with him saying that, if his father says otherwise, there is nothing he could do about it. But just like before, I have no other choice, because even if I run now, they will drag me there anyways, but both will trust me a lot less. 

I nod my head at Robb and he gives me a nod in response before a grimace appears on his face.

“Now, the adrenaline has worn off and both my back and side are starting to hurt, so it is time we left.”

Robb turns and starts walking, but very stiffly and is doing his best to not move his back if at all possible. 

When I move to follow Jon stops me with his hand on my shoulder. 

The immediate warmth that I feel when his hands grasp my skin has me leaning into his touch for a split second. But before I allow myself to lose myself in the warmth of his touch, a feeling for some reasons my body is desperately craving, I look down at his hands curiously then up to his eyes. 

He quickly drops the hand, steps back and looks down not meeting my eyes almost in shame.

And I immediately miss the warmth of his touch despite only receiving it for two seconds. 

_I am in the North, warmth of any kind will probably be hard to come by._

He then reaches, although slowly around his shoulders, grimacing as he does so and undoes the clasp to his cloak and holds it out to me. 

Leaving him in just a leather Jerkin, which has blood all over it.

But I am choosing to ignore that right now. 

“No I couldn’t, you’ll get cold,” I say in protest. 

“I’m from the North. I’m used to it. You on the other hand are not, I’ll be fine.”

He holds it out further in invitation. 

I still don’t love the idea of stealing his source of keeping warm, but I feel a shiver rub up my spine so I nod hesitantly and reach out to grab the cloak from him. 

The moment I place it around my shoulders, some of the cold starts to seep away. As does small pieces of the fear that has been etched in my bones. 

The cloak smells like trees and fire and smoke. 

I look at him and he is looking over me with an analytical look.

I feel small and exposed under his stare, so I look down again.

“Thank you,” I say sincerely to the ground quietly and I glance back up at him and he nods once our eyes connect again. 

He then quickly turns and starts limping back towards his horse. 

I start walking alongside him and before long, despite his numerous injuries we arrive at a pair of horses, with Robb already mounted on his. 

Both of their Wolves standing protectively by each of the horses. 

Although the Grey one was favoring one side from where he got sliced, he seemed to be fine. 

Robb looked at me in Jon’s cloak then over at Jon with a smirk on his face but said nothing turning his horse in what I assume is the direction of Winterfell. 

We made our way to the second horse and I pulled myself up after a couple of tries, with Jon’s assistance, Jon pulling himself up behind me, a groan of pain escaping his lips as he does so. 

He reaches around me to grab the reins, but I hear him wheeze in pain very quietly.

I find myself in a familiar position. I am secure in between his arms as I had been with Jorah for almost two weeks. 

But this time I tense instantly at the close proximity. 

_Why am I still nervous?_

I try my best to keep as much space between the two of us as I possibly can. 

All my life, anytime any man has gotten this close, it ended in either deep fear or danger. 

Or both. 

Every time

“Are you alright?” he asks, whispering the question into my ear. 

And I instantly feel my tense posture relax slightly at the concern in his low gruff voice.  
The rational part of my brain is screaming at me to keep my distance but his voice is back to somehow providing me with comfort mixed with relief. His gruff deep voice taking away more pieces of my fear almost instantly. 

Without doing anything. 

Which honestly scares me even more, but I feel just about maxed out of being scared for today so I choose not to think about that right now so I shove that line of thinking out of my thoughts.

He readjusts the reins in his hands forcing me closer to him.  
The logical part of me again is screaming at me to get my physical and mental defenses back up. Screaming at me that despite what he did, I still do not know him very well. 

If it at all. 

But the other part of me, the part I am currently listening to, is forcing my head to look back over my shoulder at him and his eyes are carrying the same genuine concern as they were earlier. 

And there staring up into his eyes, it feels like I can find every answer I could ever need or want. 

And even though in reality I have known him for an hour it feels like I have known him for years. I can feel a pull inside me that is almost me drawing me closer to him. 

A feeling I don’t understand and couldn’t explain if I tried. 

It is an odd feeling. 

And somehow, I know that this man will never hurt me despite him very clearly demonstrating how dangerous he can be just a few minutes ago. 

I don’t know how I know that, but I know that it is true.

The fact that I don’t question why is another thing to add to my ”be scared about later” list. 

There is something different about him. There is something he has that no one else I have ever come in contact with has and I cannot quite figure out what it is. 

Not right now anyway. 

I nod slowly at him, finally answering his simple question. 

We ride for a few minutes until I finally trust my voice again. 

“And you?” I ask, my voice soft and unsure. 

“Fine, just starting to get sore is all,” he responds but I’m guessing he is massively downplaying how much pain he is in, as I can hear he is having some trouble breathing so at the very least it hurts to breathe. 

We walk at a slow pace as we continue our trek towards what I assume is Winterfell. 

“Are you really, all right?” he said softly to me as the white wolf with big red eyes trots alongside us. 

The softness and care in his tone surprises me and forces the last of my weak defenses that are keeping my thoughts and emotions down. 

“I’m alright,” I whisper, not sure if that is true or not. 

_Physically I am fine._

“Physically or Mentally?” he asks. 

The question throws me a little bit. 

_How?_

_How could he know that’s what I was thinking?_

“I’m not going to pretend that I know what you went through, because I don’t. But if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to...I don’t know whatever, let me know.”

His voice is unsure and he stumbles a bit through it, but in a very endearing way.

“Thank you Jon,” I say, hoping to convey the full weight of sincerity and appreciation in my voice. 

We slide back into silence for a while and before I even realize it, I feel myself lean fully back on him. He grimaces in pain and I look back at him in a small panic but I find his eyes already looking at me. 

And immediately my panic disappears.

We seem to be having a conversation with only our eyes but I have no idea what it is truly about. 

Or what is being said. 

I do know his chest is probably in a lot of pain and me being pressed back against is not helping. And it is selfish of me to continue to do so despite knowing this. 

But I also know that he does not want me to move. 

This is confirmed as just as I consider to move again, he adjusts the reins and pulls himself closer to me proving without any words necessary that he does not want me to move. 

I feel more of the fear drip out of my bones.

My body, finding a strong sense of comfort in his sturdy arms.

We continue in silence until voices and rustling of leaves start to be heard from ahead of us. 

I instantly freeze and tense up in the saddle. 

“It’s okay these are Winterfell soldiers, they won’t hurt you.”

He basically breathes the words in my ears, and almost instantly I relax, letting myself fall farther back into his chest. 

Eventually 10 to 15 guys all in big cloaks, and most with beards approach. 

The one in the center speaks as soon as he lays eyes on Robb. 

“Lord Stark! Are you alright? We’ve been looking for you!”

“No need to fret Jory we are here now. We ran into some trouble and had a little excitement for sure but we are here now, a few scrapes and aches to keep us company.”

“We’ll take you back to the castle immediately, your father sent out his entire household guard in search of you two when you didn’t return on time.”

“Call all of the soldiers that I am sure are roaming around, as we have been found, and we will meet you back at the castle.”

“Yes mi’lord.”

With that, the man, Jory his name is apparently, turned around and started barking out orders and we continued forward, a lot of the men staring at me as we go by, some of them pointing at me. 

“Sit tall and proud, don’t let them intimidate you. You are a dragon. Be proud of that.”

The calming gruff voice in my ear gives me a confidence that I did not know I had. 

We quickly come to the edge of the woods and there is a large castle on the hill just across a small valley. 

“That’s Winterfell?” I ask. 

“Yep, not as beautiful as Essos I’m sure, but it’s home,” he says in response. 

_Home._

It is such a foreign concept to me. 

The closest I ever got to a home was the house with a red door and a lemon tree outside in Dorne. 

“I’ve never had a home. Not really,” I say softly before I can stop it from leaving my mouth.

I don’t really know why I say it out loud, perhaps I am already too comfortable with him

A man who I just met _today._

But there was something inside me that said I could trust him. 

Absolutely and unequivocally. 

Something I had never felt with anyone, not even my brother. 

“Well, hopefully we can give you one,” he replies simply. 

The thought gives me hope. 

_Hope._

A ridiculous concept. 

A concept that I could not even fathom my entire life. 

Because there was never anything that was worth the trouble of hope. 

Hope ended in hurt. 

And I already had enough hurt to carry. 

But I look back at him again and I look up into his eyes and I feel my heart allow the tiniest amount of hope to plant itself. 

Something I had not done in a long time, if ever. 

“Will I really be okay?”

“Anyone who tries to say otherwise will have to go through me, without question.”

I look over my shoulder back again into his deep brown eyes and I see nothing there except a protective fire shining back at me. 

I turn back just so I don’t get lost in his eyes _._

_Again._

I can see the gates of Winterfell ahead of us in the distance. 

“I hate not being in control of my own destiny,” I say to Jon but I know Robb hears as he glances over at me. 

“Well we all have someone that controls our destiny one way or another, whether it be family, friends, lords, ladies, but we still always have a choice.”

“That’s easier for you to say when you can fight like that, me I had to just accept that a man kidnapped me from my controlling and hateful brother and dragged me halfway across the world.”

The conversation pauses as I can tell he is thinking over my words. 

We ride in silence for a few seconds until he responds again. 

“Well, I could try and teach you If you would like,” he says casually. 

“Teach me what?” I ask confused. 

“To fight,” he says it like it is obvious 

The proposition takes me by surprise and I look back at him and he has a worried and hopeful look on his face before turning eyes back to what is in front of him. 

“Really?” I ask still in disbelief. 

I had never even been close to being allowed to fight, Viserys wouldn’t allow it. 

Not in a million years. 

“Well I already am planning to teach my sister Arya in secret, you could join us, although I can’t guarantee how good of a teacher I am,” he says humbly. 

“Well, if your teaching is half as good as your actual fighting skills, I’m sure I would be in good hands,” I say with a smile. 

I feel him curl into himself behind me obviously again backing away from my praise directed at him. 

Like he is afraid of the compliment. 

“I’m not quite sure that’s true, but either way I would be more than willing to try, at least teach you the basics so you can defend yourself.”

“What do you mean you're not sure if that is true? You took down _four_ Wildlings single handedly Jon! One of which was the biggest man I have ever seen.”

I feel him curl in again, like he is physically afraid of the praise. Like it hurts him. 

“That may be true, but either way, that is not what we are going to tell people.”

Both the defeat and the obstinance in his voice was crazy to me. 

“What do you mean by that? You said that to Robb too, but then moved on as soon as he asked.”

“What I mean is that the truth is going to be that Robb is the one who killed those men.” 

“Why?!” I say a little too loudly, making Robb look at us. 

“It will just be easier if Lady—, I mean if everyone thinks Robb was a hero not me.”

I’m not sure who he meant when he cut himself off, but I am going to find out at some point. I am going to make a point of it. 

But before I can formulate a response, my attention is drawn back towards the scene in front of me. 

The gates are open just ahead of us and I can see people bustling and walking all around the courtyard. 

We cross through the gates and almost everyone looks up at us, some just keep walking. Others stop and stare up at us. 

Well more me. 

But then a man starts walking through the crowd gaining everyone’s attention. 

He had a long face and long brown hair. 

“Father,” I hear Robb say affectionately as he dismounts, a grimace and groan escaping him as he does so. 

Just what I thought. 

Ned Stark. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did!


	4. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trio arrive back at Winterfell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Chapter up! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your comments I really appreciate all of them! 
> 
> Let me know how I do

**Robb POV**

The pain in my side and in my back is getting increasingly more painful as we make our way back, but the bleeding has stopped, which is good. 

The entire trip back, I see Jon and Daenerys quietly talking. Both of them seemingly getting closer in proximity as we get closer to Winterfell. 

I’m not honestly sure how to feel about it. 

My brother is talking to a Targaryen. 

I mean a Targaryen killed my uncle and grandfather after another kidnapped my aunt and raped her. 

That did not bode well for the family. 

But all the interaction I have had with her, she seemed just like a scared young woman thrown into a horrible situation. 

Which she could very well be. 

But she is also a Targaryen and that is hard to overlook or forget about. 

But Jon was right, she was barely born for the Rebellion. 

Father’s voice ran through my mind when skin said that. 

_“Never judge a son for his father's crimes.”_

I let out a sigh as my thoughts run wild through my head. 

_This should definitely be interesting._

I could see the genuine concern on Jory’s face when we came up on him in the woods. 

I don’t even know how long we were gone, but I know for sure the sun is lower in the sky than our original arrival was planned to be. 

To be fair we also planned on six less dead bodies in the woods and one less passenger. 

_Talk about a derailed plan._

One of the worst parts about all this might be that we didn’t get _anything_ for the royal family’s visit. I let out a sigh and looked to the sky and over the endless plains that surround Winterfell. 

It has been just over a week since we got word that almost the entire royal party was on their way here and since then it has been all go all the time in preparation for them. 

Whether that is getting the castle ready or going out and hunting for all the food that is going to be required for this visit.

I can’t imagine how much this entire thing is going to cost us, but I know it is not going to be cheap. 

_I might get to find out exactly how much myself._

The past couple of years Father has been involving me more and more on all the day to day decisions of running Winterfell. But with the King coming and the very real possibility that Father could be headed back down south with him, it might not be long until I am thrust into his chair. 

And I don’t think I’m ready. 

Not even close.

But I might have to be. 

Father had to be ready in a much more stressful situation than I will. 

At least he is still going to be alive if I need any advice or counsel from him. 

Father didn’t have that luxury. 

I look over my shoulder at Jon’s horse where he and the Targaryen are looking up into each other's eyes. They stay staring at each other for a few seconds before she says something to him quietly that I cannot hear. 

I am still not sure how Father is going to react to me and Jon coming home with Daenerys Targaryen. He might kill her, he might take her in, he might even just send her straight to White Harbor and back to Essos. 

_I don’t know, but I’m going to find out soon._

I know I said that I would protect her in the woods and I intend to keep that promise. 

A Stark man is one of his word. 

But she also seemed to understand that whatever Father said would be what would happen. 

We are not going to go against our Father for a Targaryen, that is just not a reasonable thing to ask. 

Or at least I am not. 

Looking over at Jon again it scares me to think that that might not be true for him. 

I bring my eyes forward again as we pass through the gates and there are people buzzing about as always. 

I spot Bran over at the archery range still. That’s all he has done since Arya bested him a few days ago. I still don’t quite know how she got that good, but I suspect Jon has something to do with it. 

_She has always loved him most._

I don’t see any of my other three siblings in the yard. 

Or Mother and Father. 

Just as I think that Father steps forward from the doorway that leads towards his office and immediately upon our eyes connecting, I see relief shine in his face. 

“Father,” I call out to him happily and I feel a big smile spread on my face. 

I suspect we don’t look great, especially Jon. 

_That’s what happens when you kill four people by yourself._

You end up covered in blood, bruises scattered around your body and a heavy limp. 

I swing down my horse, my back not liking the quick movement, as a big wave of pain goes up my back, making my landing less than graceful but I try to keep as much of the pain off my face as possible though I don’t think I’m successful.

I look over at Jon’s horse and see a similar reaction as he lands on the ground, though he lands on his right leg only, I assume to protect the nasty looking wound on his left leg. 

I look down at his leg and there is a deep gash that still seems to be bleeding slightly and is surrounded by deep blue bruises. They are easy to see because a huge part of his pant leg got ripped off at some point.

The sight of the wound alone almost makes me want to throw up.

Once he is settled on the ground he then reaches up and helps Daenerys down from the horse. 

She lands right in front of Jon and turns towards him. I watch as their eyes meet again. They stay there for longer than is probably appropriate before they shake themselves out of their trance and start walking over towards me. 

Daenerys moves very delicately, like she is walking on ice, while Jon walks with a heavy limp, blood dried on his face and hand supporting his chest. 

I continue to try my best to conceal the pain I’m in as I walk over next to them as they come to a stop in front of Father. 

I feel Grey Wind walking by my side and I glance over to see Ghost standing closely to Jon. 

As we get closer, I can see Father’s expression has changed from the relief I saw when we came through the gate to a well concealed anger. 

He is looking between the three of us, trying to put the pieces together on his own but is clearly failing. 

“What happened to you two?” he asks, the concern is still in his voice, though it is disguised by the monotone of his voice. His eyes travel up and down our bodies before they land on the blonde-haired girl.

“And I think the more important question may be who is this?” he asks with caution gesturing to Daenerys hesitantly. 

Like he knows what the answer is but can’t quite bring himself to believe it. 

I look to my right at Jon and Daenerys and they are both looking over at me, obviously hoping I will answer him. 

I look around us and a small crowd has gathered around us. 

_Too many prying ears out here._

“Answers would be better given inside,” I say simply. 

Father stares at me for a few tense seconds before he nods in understanding. 

“Alright. But after we’re done, you two need to get you looked at.” he says. 

“We’ve definitely seen better days,” I say back to him as he turns to where Luwin is standing stoically, like he always does. 

“I think we should—,” I am cut off by my other three siblings and Mother coming out. 

“Robb,” mother says affectionately before moving to hug me. 

She does so gently, which is good, because any sudden movements or impacts will make my back seize in pain. 

Unfortunately, Arya is not as careful. 

“Jon!” I hear her shout, moving out from behind Mother who had come through the door first. 

“No! Arya wait!” I try to call out but I’m too late and she crashes full force into Jon’s stomach causing an extremely loud groan of pain to exit his mouth. 

Arya jumped back just as quickly staring at Jon with a look of pure horror on her face. 

Jon is left coughing and wheezing as his face shows all the pain that I thought he might be hiding in the forest and on the ride back. 

“I’m sorry Jon! I didn’t mean—,” Arya stutters out through sharp breaths, clearly hating the fact that she hurt her favorite brother.

Jon had always been tough and didn’t show pain that easily, so seeing him in this much overt pain is shocking. When I look around everyone has a similar look of fear and shock that I am sure mirrors my own. 

Everyone but one. 

When my eyes fall on my mother’s face, she has the ghost of a smile on her face. 

_That doesn’t make sense._

I’m not exactly sure what the expression is on her face but the one thing I know for sure is that I see no concern or remorse in her features. 

The thought leaves my mind quickly when I hear Jon groan again. 

“It’s fine Arya,” Jon grunts out as he stands again gingerly bringing a hand to support his chest. He reaches out with some effort and rubs her head affectionately. 

“Are you okay Jon?” Father asks concerned. 

“I’ll be fine Lord Stark,” Jon responds carefully, his mask falls back into place on his face.

I can see Jon is trying to keep his pain off his face still though his troubled breathing was unmistakable. 

I glance down at Daenerys and her eyes are darting between Father and Jon. She is clearly concerned for Jon but I can tell she is also confused as to why Jon addresses Father as “Lord Stark” instead of addressing him like I did. 

_That will be a fun conversation._

Arya eyes leave Jon for the first time and she turns and looks at Daenerys critically. 

“Who are you?” she asks curiously. 

I rub my face in exasperation. 

I love Arya, but sometimes she is not worth all the trouble she can cause. 

Daenerys looks to Jon then to me, looking for help to know how she should answer. I glance at Father and he sees my trepidation. 

“Arya,” he calls out, drawing her attention. “I need to speak to your brothers and their guest, then they are going to need to be looked at by Maester Luwin. Would you go with him and help him get ready?”

Arya nods her head but looks back at Jon with worry. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Jon says to her trying to keep his voice even, but I can hear the pain in his voice still.

She nods slowly and walks away trailing after Luwin occasionally glancing back as they walk away, and when she finally rounds the corner out of sight, I let out a nervous, relieved breath. 

“Head to my office, I’ll be right there,” Father says to the three of us leaving no room for conversation before walking over towards Sansa and Mother. 

I want to know what they are talking about but we begin walking before I can hear any of their conversation. 

I allow Jon and Daenerys to go first. 

Which is a bit of a mistake as we are significantly slowed by Jon limping and groaning his way up the stairs. 

We all get to my father's office eventually and when we enter there’s four chairs in the room as there always are. So we each grab a chair opposite of where Father sits. Both me and Jon let out grateful sighs at being able to sit down for the first time in a while.

Daenerys is in the middle with me and Jon on either side of her. 

I can almost feel the worry that is radiating off of Daenerys as I stare at Father’s empty chair. I hear her try and steady her breathing multiple times but it is getting increasingly faster. 

And faster. 

And faster. 

Just as I think I should try and help it suddenly starts to slow. She takes a few deep breaths and seems to be able to fully calm herself down. 

I look over at her and she is looking Jon with a small smile on her face. 

Confused, I look down at the space between their two chairs to see their hands interlaced. 

I am shocked. 

We barely met this Targaryen girl a couple hours ago, but they seem to already be bonding closely and fast. 

_The ride back helped no doubt._

It is barely 30 seconds later when Father walks in and I see Jon and Daenerys immediately let go and bring their hands into their laps in front of them. 

Father walks around and sits behind the desk rubbing his hand over his face, preparing for the incoming headache no doubt. 

He takes his hand off of his face and looks up at us again, analyzing each of us. 

“Do you want to tell me the whole story or just cut to the chase,” he asks, slightly exasperated already. 

To my surprise, before I even open my mouth, Jon is talking. 

“We were out on our hunt when we heard a loud scream of terror come from nearby. We immediately went in search of who made the scream and when we got to the scene, she was down on her knees and there were six men surrounding her. Their intentions were quite clear,” Jon said, gesturing to Daenerys whose eyes were down in either shame or fear. I'm not sure which one but clearly either way she’s very uncomfortable with having to relive what happened. 

I look at Father and he is simply listening, his face giving no indication of what he is thinking.

“The wolves took care of two of the men, as we approached. The other four were not as easy. One was the biggest man I have ever seen,” Jon said. 

“He was about a foot taller than me and had 100lbs on both of us,” I add before Jon continues. 

Father raises his eyebrows at the comment, probably not fully appreciating the size of the man. 

“The man was clearly the leader of the group and sat back while he ordered the other three to attack us. Robb was able to get two of them, while I took care of the other one,” Jon says evenly without hesitation. 

“What...no—,” I stumble out, shocked by Jon’s blatant false statement.

But Daenerys’ hand on my leg stops me. I glance over at her and I see a pleading look in her eyes. 

It is a bold move. 

One I don’t think I would have guessed that she had the confidence for but looking into her eyes I cave and I sit back against my chair.

 _Trust Jon._

Father doesn’t seem to notice the exchange as he is still listening to Jon. 

“The big guy put up a fight, gave us some cuts, bumps, and bruises to remember him by for sure, but eventually Robb got him through the back while he was attacking me. It wasn’t until after we were finished that we realized just who we were protecting.”

Father looks at Jon then me then Daenerys. 

“Are you who I think you are?” He asks her gently. 

She is still looking down, not meeting his eyes but she nods her head. 

“Look at me,” he says. 

She keeps her head down. 

“Look up at me child,” Father whispers again. 

This time she looks up and she has tears in her eyes, clearly terrified. 

Father looks over her again before talking. 

“There’s no doubt you have the Targaryen look,” he says as he gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to be afraid of me child. I’m not going to hurt you. I have long tried to ingrain into these boys that you do not blame a child for their father's crimes. I couldn’t go on preaching that and turn around and kill you now could I.” 

I feel a sense of relief and a weight leaves my shoulders. 

Daenerys is clearly confused and grateful at the same time as she clamors to find the words she is looking for. But after opening her mouth several times with no words coming out, she is finally able to speak. 

“But...but the thi-things m-my family... my brother did…”

“Is not something you are guilty of,” Father says simply in a soft voice with a careful smile. “Though I have to say, you probably couldn’t have worse timing,” he says, clearly thinking some things over in his head. 

_Oh shit! The king is coming! And he will not hesitate to kill her in an instant._

I feel a degree of fear settle in my stomach at the thought. 

_If we are caught with a Targaryen in our castle and did not alert the king…_

The damages and consequences would be, I don’t even know how bad. 

“Why?” Daenerys asks with the same worried tone in her voice. 

“The king. He is riding for Winterfell as we speak. And he is not nearly as understanding or calm as I am.” 

The implication is clear and Daenerys goes very pale at the thought.

_Certainly what she has grown up learning does not make her his biggest fan._

Father lets out a sigh and looks at Daenerys with a calculating look. 

Daenerys meets his eyes sheepishly for a few seconds before returning to her submissive pose of her head down and staring at her lap. 

Like she has done something wrong. 

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he starts, and Daenerys looks up from her lap at Father again. “It might be a difficult and boring few weeks, but if we keep you hidden and out of site...we will definitely have to dye your hair, but I think we will be able to keep you out of harm's way. As long as you are able to keep your head down and not make a big scene. Now all of this is also under the assumption that you are not here to try and steal the throne,” he says looking at her. 

She is immediate and definitive in her answer for the first time. 

“No, no definitely not. I just...just,” she says quietly trailing off and her confidence fades as her words do and she returns to staring at her lap. 

“I just want a place to call home.” 

The tales of the two surviving Targaryen’s running from place to place over Essos to avoid cut throats were never far from my ears. 

_I hadn’t really considered how hard that could be on a young child?_

Father looks at her with sympathy. 

“Well, you are welcome here, just keep your head down and we won’t be able to use your real name, you should come up with a nickname that you are comfortable with everyone calling you by. For your own safety and our own, only a handful of people will know your true identity. Your family does not have many friends in this part of the world. Most of my children will know, the only one who won’t is Rickon as he is too young to know what to say and what not too. Along with my wife Lady Catelyn Stark, Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel.”

I look at Daenerys who has a completely stunned look on her face. 

“I don’t know wh-what to say...thank you Lord Stark,” she says in disbelief. 

I glance at Jon and I see relief on his face as well. 

“You are welcome child,” he says back to her with a genuine smile. 

A knock on the door interrupts the gentle silence that follows. 

“Come.”

I turn and see Sansa walk unsurely through the door. 

She smiles at me and Daenerys, and I smile back at her when we connect eyes. 

But my smile falls a little when I see her lock eyes with Jon and her smile falls from real to forced. 

It is not a huge difference, it is an extremely small difference actually, but I know my sister well enough to spot it. I’ve seen the fake smile countless times at feasts and when she has greeted different Northern lords enough to see the difference. 

Jon gives her a small half smile in response, the same iciness in their interaction as always, before she turns back towards Father. 

“Father, you told me to let you know when the guest room was ready,” she says cautiously. 

“Ahh Sansa, perfect timing. Come in.”

Sansa closes the door and walks around to stand next to Father. 

“Sansa, this is Daenerys Targaryen,” Father says simply, not wasting anytime.

The shock is very clear on Sansa’s face but she quickly recovers. 

“Targaryen?” she asks quietly. 

“Yes, and she will be staying with us for the foreseeable future. That is why the room is so close the rest of yours. You are not to reveal or talk about her true identity to anyone except your siblings and Maester Luwin, understood?” 

Sansa shakes her head yes. 

“What are we going to call her since we can’t call her by her true name?” Sansa asks. 

Father looks at Daenerys then back at Sansa. 

“We will figure that out--” he starts but is interrupted. 

“Dany.”

Everyone looks at her as soon as she says it. 

“Call me Dany,” she says looking at Sansa, who smiles back at her.

The silence stretches on for a few seconds before Father breaks it.

“Sansa, will you take _Dany_ here to her new room and help get her settled?” Father asks.

“Of course,” Sansa says and moves towards the door. 

I look over at Daenerys and she seems hesitant to move. 

“Go ahead. Get some sleep, you will need it.”

Jon’s gruff voice seems to break Dany out of her fear and she stands slowly and hesitantly. 

She moves to walk out of the room before turning back to the three of us. 

“Thank you,” she says to all of us. 

I feel a smile form on my face as I look up at her from my chair.

_Maybe not all Targaryen’s are insane after all._

“Thank you for everything you guys did. I don’t know what to say to convey how thankful I am,” she says with complete sincerity. 

“Your welcome,” Father says. “Now go get some sleep so you are rested enough to eat with us later.”

“Yes, Lord Stark.” 

Sansa opens the door and I see Jory striding down the hallway. 

The girls exit the room and start to walk down the corridor, leaving the door open for Jory. 

“Lord Stark, wanted to let you know we were back and everyone is accounted for,” he says. 

“Thank you Jory.” 

He shifts his eyes down at the two of us before moving them back up at Jory. 

“Jory, will you help Jon get to Maester Luwin’s study. I would like to talk to Robb,” he says, glancing at Jon’s leg, which is still looking nasty. 

“Yes mi’lord.”

Jon stands up from the chair with a good amount of effort, Jory moves to assist him but Jon politely waving him off.

“You gonna be okay?” I ask him as he limps past me. 

“I’ll live,” he grunts out and starts stalking down the hallway.

Jory bows and closes the door behind him. 

“Sometimes he is too stubborn for his own good,” Father says as I sit back down in my chair.

I laugh which causes pain in my back. 

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asks me. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. My back will probably just be pretty sore for a few weeks,” I say to him. 

Which he nods at. 

“So, would you like to tell me what really happened,” he says smoothly. 

I smirk at him. 

“How did you know?” I ask. 

“I heard you start to interject while Jon was talking and it would make sense that he would give you the credit not himself. So the same count just flopped?”

I shake my head no at him. 

“It was just him,” I say directly to him. 

“What happened?” he asks, shocked.

“The first part is true about the wolves and the three guys coming at us. But when the two of them started coming for me, Jon trash talked one into attacking him instead. Which makes sense, we both know that he is better than me in two on one situations. My guy was good, and slashed me on my side, put me on my back. I could have gotten out of it but before I knew what was happening, Jon put his sword through his chest from behind. Jon forced me to stay down because of my injury, even had the wolves box me in.”

“And Jon took care of the rest of them?”

“Yeah, eventually,” I say, not wanting to put Father through the rest of the story. It was clear he was struggling to listen to the first part. He was clearly mad at himself that we had to handle it ourselves. 

He wipes a few tears from his eyes and looks back at me. 

“I’m proud of you,” he says, which surprises me. 

“Why? I didn’t do anything. I just stood there while Jon killed everybody and I cowered behind the wolves,” I say letting some of my suppressed anger out. 

He smirks at me. 

“Because the way you have carried yourself through this, and the way you always do makes me proud to call you my son.”

I feel love and appreciation swell in my heart as a smile appears on my face that matches his. 

“Are you good enough to get to Luwin’s?” he asks when our silence stretches on. 

“If Jon can, I can,” I say standing, making him smirk again. 

“Get checked out and get some rest, I will come check on you guys later.” 

“Yes Father,” I say, opening the door and start to walk down the hall.

This morning had started like every other. Now there was now a Targaryen living in Winterfell and my brother killed four Wildlings but everyone is going to think I did. 

I still don’t feel good about taking the credit. 

_I will have to ask Jon why, and he better have a good reason._

I let out a sigh and continue to walk and I feel exhaustion start to catch up with me as I walk. 

_It sure has been a long day._

* * *

**Dany POV**

_One step at a time._

Right. 

Left. 

Right. 

Left.

I can still feel the fear gripping my bones as I walk down the corridor but I am choosing to just focus on just making sure I walk in a straight line and don’t trip over my own feet.

Right. 

Left. 

I look around as I walk. 

All the walls are a dark grey stone, with no color to them whatsoever. 

Bland and sturdy.

Right. 

Left. 

The only color that seems to be in the hallway is the bright red hair of the girl walking next to me. 

I feel like we have been walking for hours. We have made so many turns, that my head is spinning and I’m convinced that whoever designed this place was determined to make it a maze rather than a castle.

I could not make it back to Lord Stark’s office even if I wanted to. 

I look back over at the girl walking next to me. 

She cannot be older than 14, but she has a radiant smile and gorgeous red hair that is perfectly brushed and flows beautifully down her back and shoulders. 

I on the other hand, feel disgusting. 

I probably look disgusting too, especially next to her. 

It has been weeks since I had a proper bath and I am sure that I am dirty and disgusting. 

_A bath and real food._

Those are the two main things on my mind now. 

I haven’t eaten a real meal since I was captured and haven’t had a bath in just as long. 

We continue walking and I see the famous wolf sigil that is known to symbolize the Starks of Winterfell all over the world carved into each door as we walk past. 

I still cannot quite believe that I am walking through Winterfell right now. 

Winterfell.

The home of the Starks. 

On top of that, the fact that I am doing so willingly is even more surprising. 

The feared, loyal, evil dog of the infamous usurper who had killed even the little Targaryen children during the Sack of Kings Landing. I have heard that story probably hundreds of times over my childhood. Viserys had ingrained that story into my brain so I knew who our enemies were and why they were traitors.

The story I did not hear a hundred times growing up was the one where my father killed two of the Starks who had come down to the capital to demand the return of their sister who had been kidnapped and raped, by my older brother. And he killed them for no better reason than the voices in his head told him too. 

The story Viserys painted of the Starks was one of a family who were evil, who were uncivilized barbarians and who killed for no other reason than because it was fun. 

But the people I am meeting now are brave, generous beyond words to people that they probably shouldn’t be and are extremely polite and giving.

The exact opposite of everything I was told growing up but the exact same of everything that Jorah told me on the boat ride over. 

Instead of the evil Starks I had been expecting to cut my throat at the first opportunity, they had raised sons skilled enough to kill six Wildlings, they saved my life and then delivered me to probably the one lord in Westeros who would spare my life. 

I am indebted to the Starks. 

That is obvious and will probably always be true.

No matter what happens. 

I will always be indebted to the Starks. 

We turn down another hallway with the same grey walls as every other corridor. 

A part of me misses the bright color and vibrancy and life of Pentos as I walk down the hallway. 

But the same part of me knows that is all I miss about Pentos. 

I feel a chill run up my spine and I pull the cloak I’m wearing closer around me to try and brave myself from the cold. 

It’s only then that I remember whose cloak I’m still wearing. 

_Jon._

I feel a slight pang of worry run through me as I remember the young man with raven-black hair that is most likely limping his way around the castle somewhere right now. 

_I hope he is okay._

None of his injuries seemed to be immediately life threatening, if they were, he would have died in that forest. But his leg however did not look good. 

Watching him try to walk up those stairs was not easy. And as we were riding, I could hear him labor over every breath he took. And that unintentional blow to his midsection from what I assume is his sister did not help any I’m sure. 

But even though logically, I know that he will be okay, I still feel a deep sense of worry for him. 

_I wish I could support him now like he did me._

The panic that had overtaken me as I sat in that small room staring at a chair with a big wolf engraved at the top was sudden and powerful. 

The room seemed to spin and I could not take a full breath to save my life. I tried to tell myself that I needed to stay calm. But my brain did not seem to want to register such thoughts. 

Just panic and fear. 

But then I felt something squeeze my hand. 

I clutched whatever it was and squeezed it for dear life, trying to ground myself, hoping that it would bring me some sort of balance and safety. 

Somehow it did. 

It was only once my breathing had returned to normal that I realized it was Jon’s hand inside my death grip. 

Neither of us said anything as we looked at each other and I had no intention of letting go his hand go and I was thankful he didn’t try and let go.

That was until I heard Lord Stark enter the room and Jon dropped my hand immediately. Like he had been doing something wrong and was afraid to be caught. 

“Here we are. This is your room right here.”

Her voice breaks me out of my thoughts and I turn to look where she gestured and see a big wooden door with yet another wolf engraved on the door. 

_How many wolf carvings are there in this place?_

“Thank you,” I say, still looking at the door not moving. For some reason I am afraid to go in. 

Afraid to move. 

Afraid to accept this might be real. 

Like going through this door will make everything official, and I’m not sure I am ready for that. 

Like I am not ready to accept that something this good and kind could happen to me without it being some sort of trick. 

I glance at Sansa and she is looking at me expectantly and I can see a confusion in her kind eyes. 

I know I have to open the door or this will only get more awkward than it already is. 

I smile at her and tentatively approach the door. 

I grab the big metal handle and attempt to open it. 

And it doesn’t budge. 

I try again and I feel it give way just a little bit. 

_Why would they ever make doors this heavy?  
_ The third time I push my shoulder into the door and it finally swings open with a heavy creek. 

Despite being in the North, when I open the door I am met with a rush of heat. 

My surprise must have shown as Sansa steps up beside me. 

“We had a fire started when we got the room ready, figured you wouldn’t mind the heat. My mother said that you would probably be freezing given you are from Essos,” Sansa says in her quiet polite voice.

_I can never be too warm. I am a dragon._

“Thank you Sansa,” I say, giving her what I hope is a warm smile which she returns. 

I look around the room that I am now standing in. There is a very large bed on the side of the room closest to the fireplace, a nightstand right near it, a trunk on the opposite wall and a small lounge chair near it. 

Overall it’s a pretty simple room. 

But it has a rustic beauty that I find that I enjoy. 

It would probably seem bigger as well, but there was a huge tub in the middle of the room with steaming water in it, taking up most of the space. 

It is not as big as my room with Illyrio, but a lot better than some of the other places we have stayed over the years. 

“This room is similar to mine. Although this is a bit smaller,” I hear Sansa comment. 

I know I should respond, but I simply stay where I am looking around the room.

I’m not sure how long I stood there analyzing the room but eventually Sansa’s voice breaks+ me from my trance. 

“Well, I will leave you to get settled and take your bath. Later I can take you on a small tour of the castle before dinner if you would like,” Sansa offers. 

“Thank you Sansa,” I say to her honestly not sure how else I should respond. 

“Oh and Mother had a couple of my outfits placed in your trunk so you have something else to wear that more suits this type of weather. They may be a little big for you, but they should do until we can make you your own.”

I look at her with a shocked expression. 

_Why are they doing all of this?_

“Tha-thank you Sansa. I don’t know what to say,” I stammer out. 

She simply blushes and curtsies perfectly before exiting the room without another word. 

Once the door is closed, I let out a deep sigh of relief. Feeling the relief of being completely alone for the first time in a month is soothing and relaxing but being alone also comes with a familiar feeling of fear in my gut. 

_Maybe learning to fight isn’t such a bad idea._

It might give me more confidence that I do not need anyone else to protect me. 

Despite all that seems to be going okay, a great room, surprisingly friendly people and a warm tub to take a bath in, there is still the small part of me just waiting for someone or something to come through and take it all away from me. 

I wait for the trick or the catch that I am sure is coming. 

It has to. 

Things like this don’t just happen. 

Especially not to me. 

I could never have guessed that being kidnapped would lead to me being set up in a room inside Winterfell by the Starks of all people. 

I turn back to my room and reevaluate it. 

Despite the big tub that is in the middle of the room, the room still seemed decently spacious. It is definitely smaller than the rooms I had back in Pentos, but there is a warmer feeling in this room than there ever was in any of my rooms before this. 

And that is true despite the light snow that was on the ground outside. 

_Snow._

_Jon Snow._

He seemed to be barely able to walk as he trudged down the corridor towards what I hope was either rest or help when he last left my sight.

The girl had seemed sweet and caring. 

The one who had come running out of the hallway.

Arya I think they said her name was. 

And she was clearly happy to see her brother. But it is also obvious that she seems to be a bit like a do before you think kind of person. 

She had had a horrified look on her face, as did everybody in the surrounding area, while Jon had been doubled over in pain, my eyes had frantically searched the area around me, as I was not really sure where to look or what I should do to help. My eyes scrambled around for a second before landing on the one person whose expression stood out as it was unlike everybody else surrounding her. 

Instead of shock and fear, she seemed almost happy at the scene in front of her. It was the older woman that had hugged Robb immediately upon arriving, and I am assuming she is Robb’s mother. 

Catelyn Stark, I believe her name is.

As I stared at her I saw just a flash of smile on her face before she set her face into an unreadable non expression. 

It was so fast that I almost didn’t see it.

So fast I am not completely sure if it was actually there.

But the moment is imprinted on my brain because it reminded me of the beginnings of many dreadful 

smiles that I had received from Viserys throughout my childhood. 

I pull the cloak that is still around my shoulders and breathe in again. Letting the smell of Jon’s cloak fill my nose and allowing the warmth of the cloak to surround me. 

I turn to the mirror that is in the room and am shocked by the sight in front of me. 

My hair seems like it is going every direction, and I have dirt all over my face and arms. 

_Evidence of my long journey._

I look horrible. 

Viserys would be horrified if he saw me. 

I turn back to the tub that is sitting in the middle of the room is still steaming water in it.

I let out a sigh and decide it really is overdue that I get into the water. 

I reluctantly remove the cloak and lay it on my bed and instantly I feel the full force of the Northern cold as a big shiver runs up my spine despite the roaring fire in the room. 

I immediately move to put the big cloak back on but then I remember why I took off in the first place. I quickly remove the rest of my tattered dirty old clothes, and throw them to the floor before plunging into the still steaming water. 

Immediately I feel the warm liquid hug my skin and the remaining tension in my bones relaxes and I stretch out allowing my aching muscles some of the relief they deserve. 

I can feel the water getting soaked up by my skin. 

And for right now, I allow myself to be free. 

Free of the constant fear I have found myself in my entire life. 

Free of the worry for Robb and Jon’s condition. 

Free of the fear that Viserys will burst through the door warning me that I “awoke the dragon.” 

Free of concern over what my name is and what it could mean. 

Free of the uncertainty of the people I am now surrounded by. 

I simply lay there.

And just allow myself to be. 

I feel my eyelids start to get droopy as I lay my head back against the edge of the tub. 

It is not the most comfortable position, but the exhaustion from not just today but the past month starts to catch up with me as I sit in the warm water. 

I fully allow my head to rest against the back of the tub and close my eyes. 

Allowing myself to slip into a peaceful slumber. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! 
> 
> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Next up we get Ned's thoughts!


	5. The Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned tries to wrap his head around the castle's most recent arrival, while Dany gets a tour of Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter! 
> 
> Thank you all for the wonderful comments! I really appreciate them! 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe!

Ned POV 

I have lived with the same fear for 17 years. 

Fear that anyone would learn of the truth. 

The biggest truth that no one else could or ever would know. 

I see the truth every time that I look at him. 

He looks like her. 

The North look. 

The Stark look. 

More so than any of my actual children. 

Except for Arya maybe. 

And the fear that has become a permanent part of me has only grown since I received the raven alerting me of Jon Arryn’s death and that the King would be riding North. 

What Robert wanted from this journey is not hard to figure out and I am still no closer to knowing what I will say to him than when I first found out.

And that was before I inherited another Targaryen. 

I don’t want the job and I don’t want to leave the North. But I don’t think I can so no to my King.

“Ahhhhhhh.”

The loud groan that escapes my lips is in direct reaction to the newest walking and talking threat in Winterfell. 

_At least they are both with one of the few members of their family they have left, even if they do not know it._

It was clear as they rode in on the back of the same horse that already, there was something brewing and they had already formed some sort of bond. 

I could see it in their eyes. 

And the fact that they were holding hands when I walked into the room did not hit me with as much surprise as I thought it would. 

It did not take me long to put together and guess at what happened out in that forest. And I knew that there was no way that I was going to execute her. I considered for just a second holding her and waiting for Robert to arrive, but I knew exactly what would happen to her and she did not deserve that fate. 

She didn’t do anything wrong except be born with the wrong last name. 

Once the three had disappeared up the stairs I had immediately ordered Cat and Sansa to help with putting together the last room in the family wing together. 

Cat had been weary of the idea but had complied easily enough going about ordering around all the correct people. 

_I guess Jon never will get that room._

It was an issue that had not been brought up in a long time, but I had always hoped that Cat would find it in her heart to accept Jon and allow him his correct place in the family wing.

But every time I tried to bring it up, she said shut it down immediately. Said that it was bad enough that I allowed him in Winterfell and flaunted my mistake in front of her every day. 

_If only I could trust her with the truth._

It is not even that I don’t trust her, I would trust her with my life. And despite our rocky start, I feel like we have developed a genuine and prosperous marriage together. 

But no one could be trusted with the truth. 

The only reason Howland knew was because he was there. 

And Aemon knew because well, we needed somewhere to put the third one.

Benjen also knew, but he figured it out more than I told him. I confirmed his thoughts more than anything else. 

A sigh escapes my lips again as my brain continues to process everything. 

Two Targaryens living amongst Starks with Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters riding straight towards us. 

_And I thought nothing could surprise me anymore._

While I know that the newest addition to Winterfell could be an extremely dangerous addition, I am glad that she is here. 

_She is family after all._

What the last two remaining Targaryens have had to go through simply because Robert can’t handle his own emotions is ridiculous. And it is part of the reason I have not left the North since the Greyjoy rebellion. 

And I reluctantly left then. 

A knock on my door pulls me out of my musings. 

“Come.” 

I see Cat open the door slowly and stand opposite of me. 

Our start may not have been smooth. I mean we spent our wedding night together then we didn’t see each other for months and once we did see each other again, I was carrying another woman's child back through the doors with me. 

But slowly over time we have built a life based on love and trust for each other. 

I smile at her and she gives me a small smile back. 

“I have to admit, that when Robb came back today, I don’t know what exactly I was expecting him to bring back, but it certainly wasn’t a Targaryen,” she says with an exasperated smile. 

I let out a small laugh at the comment because she is very right. 

“You and me both.” 

She sits down opposite me and I rub my face, still trying to get my head fully around all that has happened today. 

“The room get all set up?” I ask her, which she nods in reply. 

“Yes, and I had a few of Sansa’s outfits put into her trunk so she had something other than those tattered rags to wear until we are able to make her some clothes of her own.” 

“Good call, thank you for doing that,” I say back to her. 

I can tell she wants to ask something based on the way she is looking down but it doesn’t look like she is going to ask it. 

“You can ask your question Cat,” I say softly to her.

She looks up with a surprised look on her face but then gives me an appreciative smile. 

“Are you really okay with housing a Targaryen after all her family has done to you? After all her father did to your family?” 

It is a fair question. 

_Oh there is so much that you do not know._

“A child is not guilty of their father’s sins. And while it may be hard for me at times, I cannot kill an innocent girl just because she had the Mad King as her father,” I say very much aware of the surge of anger I feel every time I look at her Targaryen blonde hair.

Cat nods at me in understanding. 

“Well, not everybody will see it that way,” she says. 

I let out a groan at how true that statement is. 

“Yeah. If there was a worse time for this to happen, I definitely cannot think of it. We just have to do our best to keep her out of sight while he is here. I already told her that we will have to dye her hair a different color while they are here. Hair color like that will only draw questions. And the more she can just stay in her room, the better.”

“Is that why you put her near the children, because guests are less likely to go into that part of the castle?” 

“Yes, that is definitely part of it. I also don’t want her to feel excluded, so I thought it would be best if she felt like she was a part of the family. So I put her with the kids so hopefully she will grow to embed herself into the family. That way it is less likely that she ever thinks to try and take the throne for herself or if things turn to where she does, she doesn’t ever turn against us. It will take time to get there as I’m sure that she did not get the best impression of the Starks growing up.”

Cat shook her head in agreement again at my statement letting us fall into silence for a few seconds before looking at me again. 

“Have you thought about what you will say to the king when he asks?” she asks, changing the subject.

“We don’t even know if he will ask…” I say trying to deflect what I already know is true. 

“There is only one reason he would be coming this far North Ned, you know that.”

She was right but in no circumstances could I envision me and the capital mixing very well together. But if Robert asked it of me, I’m not sure how I could say no to him. 

“I don’t want to go…” I say incompletely, trailing off the incomplete thought that she knows the rest of.

 _But I might have too._

“Then say no, we need you here. Now more than ever,” she said emphatically, pleading with me. 

I let out a sigh. 

“I am not sure if I will be able to say no to him, he is my king. If he asks it of me, I am honor bound to obey him.”

“What about your honor-bound duty to your family?” she asks with anger in her voice. 

This is not the first time we have had this small debate since we received the raven making us aware of Jon Arryn’s fate. 

I let out a frustrated sigh and rub my face again. 

“Can we not get into this again?” I ask her and she deflates. 

She sits there, clearly still thinking about it as she stares off into space. 

“Did you talk to Robb after he left here?” I ask her, trying to distract her. 

Almost immediately her face lights up at the mention of her oldest son. 

“Yeah he told me briefly what happened before I forced him to go and get himself looked at. He was going to try and make sure the Targaryen girl got settled in okay first, but I forced him to Luwin’s study. What surprised me was that he did not seem to want to talk about it. We usually can’t shut him up, but about this he did not seem overly proud or boastful of what he had done. It was like it was a burden, more than something to be proud of. He gets that from you I guess,” she says with a smile. 

It is not lost on me that she makes no mention of Jon. 

“Yes, they did very well today,” I say back to her and her face falls a little bit at my tiny implication. 

She looks like she is about to respond but decides not too and shuts her mouth. 

“Well, I will see you in a little bit, no doubt you have some matters to attend to before dinner,” she says while standing. 

“Aye, I will see you in a little bit,” I say to her and she leaves. 

As soon as the door is closed, I let out a big breath I didn’t know I had been holding in. I look down and see all the scattered papers on my desk that I know need my attention at some point but I cannot bring myself to look at them as there is just too much on my mind.

There are currently two Targaryen children walking around Winterfell as we prepare to host the Baratheon and Lannister families here for the first time in a long time. 

_Godswood._

Going there seems like a good idea. 

Clear my mind in time to get some dinner and then check on the boys. Then I can get some of this stuff done later. 

I stand, my chair sliding on the floor noisily behind me and make for the door. 

* * *

Dany POV 

I am just pulling on some of the oversized clothes from the trunk in my room when there's a knock on the door. 

_My room._

The thought is still weird to me and does not feel quite true yet. 

I look in the mirror and I look much more put together than I did before my bath. The warm water rejuvenating both my skin and my energy. I don’t know how long I had slept, but when I had awoken the water had gone cold and there was a kink in my neck from the awkward positioning of my headrest. 

I had found a thick white dress in the trunk and had opted for that out of the trunk. It was a bit big for me but not too big and frankly, I was just glad to have clean clothes. 

Another knock on my door drags me out of my thoughts. 

“Come in,” I call and the door creaks open again as I see Sansa walk in wearing the same clothes as before. 

We both stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of sure what to say or do next. 

“Thank you for all you have done Sansa, it means a lot to me,” I say to her honestly to relieve the awkward silence in the room. 

She blushes at the compliment and looks down at her feet. 

“I hope the bath water was not too hot,” she says back to me. 

I smile.

“It can never be too hot,” I say and she smiles back at me again. 

“Well, we will have a little bit of time for me to walk you around the castle a bit before dinner.”

“Sounds good.” 

We exit the room and I have to pull hard again just to make sure the door is all-the-way closed. 

“Well, let’s start right here. This entire hallway has all of my brothers and sisters,” she says and I look both ways down the aisle seeing six additional rooms in the hallway. “This one right next to you is my sister _Arya’s._ ” 

The way she says her sister's name has a tint of resentment or disapproval or something like that in the tone. Just based on their differing clothing options I had noticed, it is a fair guess that they are not super close. 

“Then the one right next to you down here on the same side as you is Bran’s room,” she said pointing to our left further down the hallway. “And across from him is our youngest brother Rickon. And then all the way down there at the end of the hall is the Lord’s chambers, our parent’s room.” 

_The whole family? All in one hallway?_

“This one is my room,” gesturing to the room across from mine. She then gestures down further towards the open end of the hallway. “And this one is Robb’s. Then across from him is our ward’s room, his name is Theon.” 

_They have a ward?_

But before I can ask my questions she turns and starts walking down the hallway, with me struggling slightly to keep up with her longer strides. 

She turns to me with a content smile as we reach the entrance of the hallway but I am left very confused as my most pressing question has yet to be answered.

_Where is Jon’s room?_

“I thought you said that this hallway has all the rooms for your brothers and sisters?” I ask her curiously. 

“It is,” she responds confidently. 

“Then where is Jon’s room?” 

The question clearly was one she was not expecting as she has a shocked look on her face. 

“He is my half-brother,” she states simply like that was all the explanation that was needed. 

I look at her expectantly but she continues to just look at me with a sweet smile. Not getting that I am not satisfied with that answer. 

Eventually I realize she is going to continue to be oblivious and I’m going to have to ask the question I had hoped would go unsaid. 

“What does him being your half-brother have to do with where his room is?” I ask cautiously, hopefully not allowing my growing anger to show...too much

“Well…” she starts hesitantly, like she is unsure how to continue. “Well, he’s a bastard.”

 _“Bastard!”_ I think bitterly. 

I take a deep breath, calming myself before responding again. 

“Okay,” I say quietly, realizing I am not going to get any farther right now so I indicate to her to start walking again and we start down the long hallway. 

“So where is Jon’s room?” I ask after a few minutes as we continue to walk through all the different hallways, Sansa explaining each different room as we go. 

She stops and turns to me and I can tell she is thinking. 

“You know, I don’t actually know but I’m sure it is on the other side of the castle somewhere,” she says dismissively and continues down the hallway. 

It is clear that she is not close to Jon in any way shape or form and I have a suspicion that it has a lot to do with her mother. 

Lady Stark's ghost of a smile as Jon was curled over in pain flashes in my mind as we continue our way around the castle. 

There seem to be endless hallways and corridors and rooms and towers. 

Winterfell is deceptively big. 

I don’t think I will ever be able to keep all the hallways and rooms straight in my head. 

_Maybe there is a map in the library I can look at?_

Ironically, the map would be very helpful for me to be able to find the library in the first place. 

As we walk through each room and hallway, it is almost like I can feel the history in the wooden doors, the sturdiness in the walls and the weird coziness of the old worn stones of the walls. 

It is definitely not as pretty as Essos, but it feels 100 times homier. 

After about an hour of walking about the maze they call a castle, we both arrive at the Great Hall and there are already a good amount of people in the hall eating when we get there. 

There are different groups of people that are sitting throughout the big hall, but Sansa quickly and determinedly walks to where I see Lady Stark sitting with two younger boys who both look exactly like Robb would, if he was younger 

The exact same auburn hair and deep blue eyes. 

Lady Stark looks up and sees her daughter and me and waves us over with a big smile.

We sit down across from her and the two boys, the two boys both eating their food semi peacefully. 

“Ah Sansa, Daen-- sorry Dany, so nice of you to join us. How was your tour of the castle?” 

I wince a little bit internally at the new nickname I have chosen to be called from now on, visions of Viserys flash through my mind but I squash them down and focus on Lady Stark. 

“Yes, it went very well but it will definitely take some time for me to learn where everything is. It is a big castle.” 

She gives me a genuine smile in response. 

“Oh yes, it took me literally years before I could get everywhere without people having to tell me where to go,” she said. 

“Oh it wasn’t that bad,” I hear Lord Stark say from behind me as he approaches the table. 

I give them both a smile, when he sits down then take a look around the table. The table we are sitting at is big, made for a lot more people than are currently sitting there. 

Lord Stark must have noticed my look around the table.

“Usually the table feels a lot more full with three 17 year old boys and a hyperactive 11 year old girl at the table. But you know where two of those boys are at, Arya is helping Luwin patch them up and Theon is off doing something I do not want to think about I’m sure.”

I still have not met whoever Theon is but I am not overly concerned about that right now as something else much more important is on my mind. 

“How are they?” I ask and I am slightly ashamed at how weak and needy my voice sounds. 

But Lord Stark gives me a small smile in understanding. 

It hits me again that I am sitting in the Starks Castle and eating dinner with the very people I had nightmares about when I was younger and I feel myself draw back in on myself.

 _I still don’t know these people._

My attention is brought back from my small mental jaunt when despite what I expected it is Lady Stark that answers my question. 

“Well I met up with Luwin in the hallway just before I came down here. Luwin said that Robb’s cut on his side is not that super deep or life-threatening but should leave a scar behind. He said he will need to keep a bandage around it for about a week and that Robb won’t be able to spar or do anything of that nature for a week or two because of the blow to his back, but he will be back to full strength by the time the royal family arrives, which is a big relief.”

I hold my reaction to the brief mention of the _king,_ the man who killed and massacred my entire family and wait for her to continue but she simply looks down at her plate and keeps eating, like she has completed her thought despite everyone except Sansa waiting for her to continue. 

Before I can ask or say anything, it was the older of the two boys at the table that spoke up. 

Bran I believe his name was, but I’m not completely sure.

“What about Jon? Is he okay? He didn’t look great in the courtyard earlier, it looked like he could barely walk.”

Lady Stark first looked shocked at the question coming from her son but it quickly went to a face of displeasure. I can only assume she is not happy with her son asking after his brother. 

_Half-brother._

But the look of displeasure soon warps into a pleasant but thinking smile.

“Oh, um I just ran into Luwin in the hallway on my way here, and I did not ask after Jon. Maester Luwin seemed to be...to be in a rush,” she says slightly stammering and it is clear that she did not care in the least if he was okay or how he was doing and was now trying to cover herself as best she could to her son. 

I am becoming more sure, very quickly, that it was indeed pleasure I saw on her face when Arya hugged Jon. 

I glance at Lord Stark and he has an annoyed look on his face but did not say anything, returning to his food as an awkward silence fell around the table. 

After a few seconds of palpable tension and awkwardness overtook the table for what felt like an hour. But eventually Lady Stark cut the tension by asking me another question. 

“So Dany,” I fight off a grimace again at the nickname again. 

_I am going to have to get used to it._

“You lived in Essos, is that correct?”

The question is clearly forced but I know that I cannot be making enemies of anyone at this table so I find my most pleasant voice and smile at her before responding to her. 

“Well I have been moved between a great number of places, but Essos most recently yes,” I say to her and she and Sansa smile at me. 

Lord Stark has curiosity in his eyes. 

And his two sons across from me just look bored. 

“Is it as beautiful as they say?” Sansa asks with a sparkle in her eyes. 

I smile at her with a genuine smile as I think back to the Pentoshi nightlife I could watch unfold from my window. 

“Even better,” I say with a smile and Sansa smiles even brighter. 

From there the meal is...normal. 

Somehow.

I talked a little bit about Essos but kept quiet unless asked. 

I wanted to trust these people, but a small part of me still held onto the truth that these were the people from the stories I heard growing up. 

But it was not just my fear of this incredible new normal becoming a reality that kept me quiet. 

It was the same fear that had been holding me hostage, not just since getting captured, but my entire life, keeps me silent.

_They do not want to know what I have to say. No one cares for my opinion or what I am thinking._

But despite that same statement rattling around in my head I still was able to find a way to enjoy myself. 

The boys talked a little bit about what they did that day. Bran went on for 10 minutes talking about how he is now finally better than Arya with a bow, which had everyone, including me, laughing. 

Sansa talked about a scarf she was making and Lord and Lady Stark talked a little bit about the royal visit. 

Though it was Lady Stark who was doing most of the talking. 

For the most part Lord Stark was quiet. Watching the table with calm calculating eyes. 

Soon the meal began to wind down and I feel a pang of disappointment at the thought because through this entire meal I felt my fears start to slip away for just a short while. 

The entire atmosphere of the meal, once I got into it and stopped thinking, I allowed myself the freedom to enjoy, rather than fear every little thing around me, I was able to simply enjoy the people around me.

But I know that that feeling of enjoyment will never be a permanent state of affairs. 

At least not for me. 

And soon the fear will come racing back, filling my bones and muscles once again.

Enjoyment is temporary, fear and pain are inevitable. 

That is what my life has taught me. 

“Well I am going to go check on the boys, you all should get up to your rooms, we are going to have a busy few weeks ahead of us,” Lord Stark says with finality in his voice. 

Everyone starts to move and Sansa turns to me. 

“Do you need me to help you back to your room?” she asks in her same pleasant sing-songy voice. 

I think about it for a second before responding.

“Actually, Lord Stark?” I call out to him and he turns back to me. “Would it be okay if I went and checked on Robb and Jon?” 

He surveys me for a second and I start to shift my eyes down like I have thousands of times before when I was stupid enough to ask for something.

But before my inner voice can torment me too much, his voice cuts through my thoughts. 

“Absolutely child. Walk with me I can show you the way,” he says as he smiles down at me when my eyes shoot up in surprise to meet his. 

I nod at him, my shock preventing me from speaking momentarily. I stand from the table as he begins to walk out of the room and by the time, we enter the corridor beyond the Hall I am walking right alongside him.

My shorter strides have to be quicker to keep up with his longer ones. 

We walk in silence for a time until a question that had been floating around in my mind since I arrived here floats back into the front of my mind and the quietness of the corridors gives me the small dash of confidence needed for me to speak. 

“Lord Stark, may I ask you a question?” I ask. 

My voice is small and quiet, and I am frankly surprised he heard me.

“Of course,” he says. 

“Are you at all worried that one of the people in your castle will recognize who I am?” 

He lets out a low chuckle. 

“I am not going to go broadcasting it for sure, but I am not going to hide it either. Not when it is just us around here at least. The people of the North and particularly the people around Winterfell have been here a _long_ time. Most have parents and grandparents that had the same jobs they do and each of them have a deep love and loyalty for my family. Of course, there is a concern that Lord Varys has his little birds running about but I tend not to worry too much about that. If I don’t give him a reason to let his little birds fly, the less likely he will think to look.”

I nod my head and we return to a companionable silence as we walk. 

I have to quicken my strides to keep up with his longer ones as he seems to be starting to walk faster but before I can even try and recognize where we are or where we are going, he is turning and knocking on a door. 

I feel anticipation brewing as I hear a throaty “Come in,” come from behind the door. 

Lord Stark opens the door and we enter the room. 

When I first step in my eyes first go to Robb who is sitting on a table with bandages around his chest and side talking to an older man with grey hair and receding hairline. 

Lord Stark walks over to the pair and I scan my eyes right where my eyes find Jon who is lying on a cot with Arya talking to him from a chair next to the bed. 

He has a small bandage on his cheek along with a big thick one around his quad. His right hand is wrapped tightly and the blankets are up to his neck, but I assume his back and chest are still not in great shape either, probably covered in blue and purple bruises. 

He looks over at me and we lock eyes. 

I feel my heart rate pick up a little bit and I find I could not look away even if I wanted to. 

And I definitely do not want to. 

He gives me a small smile which I try to return hoping it does not look forced. 

He adjusts a little bit and the sheet covering his chest slips down a little bit further. For the briefest second, I allow the prospect of the sheet slipping lower being something I would enjoy before I squash the notion entirely. 

I try and shake my head to clear myself of such thoughts, but as I approach and take a seat they seem to be wanting to stay in my mind. 

I glance up and connect eyes with his sister and she is looking up at me with both suspicion and curiosity in her eyes. 

I look back to Jon and just like on the horse, I start to feel myself being drawn in by his chocolate brown eyes. 

“Hi Jon,” I hear myself say. 

I don't get a verbal response. 

I get a brilliant tired smile. 

And it somehow quells my worries and tells me everything I need to know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!


	6. The Maester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Robb go see Maester Luwin to get all patched up and we go inside the head of Arya for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading I really appreciate it. 
> 
> I appreciate all of the comments! I hope we all can enjoy a story about a fandom that brings us happiness in this weird time! 
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe!

**Jon POV**

I felt a certain amount of fear as I turned my back on Daenerys and walked towards Luwin’s study with Jory walking by my side but as I sat there listening to Father, the pain in both my back, leg and specifically my chest had gotten increasingly worse. 

I have to limp pretty badly to continue walking and I grimace with every step. Jory keeps looking over at me wanting to ask if he can help but he along with everybody else knows how stubborn I can be, so he knows when I said I would walk there myself, I wasn’t joking. 

So he stayed quiet but was on high alert in case my stubbornness caused me to collapse.

The blow from Arya had certainly not helped but breathing had been hard before that as well. The blow was almost worth it as I got to witness firsthand how much she actually does care about me. 

She tells me and everyone that I am her favorite sibling. It is no secret, but a small part of me always wonders if she is just saying that to make me feel better and more included. 

I know that logically that is not true as Arya is about a brutally honest person as you will ever meet but my insecurities won’t allow me the certainty. 

I turn the corner into the hallway that I know houses Luwin’s study and I feel my leg almost lose its strength like it knows that I will finally be able to get all my weight off of it, but I keep walking and my leg regains the small amount of strength it has left. 

Jory opens the door ahead of me and leads me in. 

“Go ahead and take a seat in that chair over there Jon and we’ll take a look at you,” Luwin says as he sees us enter the room and I nod and limp the rest of the way over and collapse onto the chair. “Thank you Jory for seeing him here,” Luwin says to the quiet soldier who bows and leaves the room without a word. 

“Arya, will you bring me the bandages from over there by you please.”

I look over and I see Arya looking over at me with fear in her eyes.  
I give her a smile and she smiles back with trepidation then brings the bandages over to Luwin who sits down next to me on a stool and immediately starts to look at the cut on my face. 

“You certainly took some punishment that is for sure,” he comments as he reaches and grabs some random medical supplies from the table behind him. 

_I think that is a bit of an understatement._

I glance over at Arya and she still is looking at me like if she gets any closer she will injure me further, so I send a smirk her way. 

“Arya, you can stop looking at me like I am going to break into a million pieces, I am going to be fine,” I say to her but she just looks down at her shoes. 

“I hurt you,” she says quietly. 

“I was already hurt Arya,” I say with a smirk but she just looks worse at my blunt statement so I decided to try a different approach. “Besides, it wouldn’t matter how hurt I was I would still be able to shoot an arrow better than you. Without a doubt.”

I speak with total confidence as Luwin places a bandage over the cut on my cheek. 

She immediately got an offended and shocked look on her face. 

“You could not!”

“Oh, I so could.” 

Luwin rolled his eyes and he rolled around to look at the gash in my leg that had become increasingly more painful since sitting which I was not sure how that could be true, but it was. 

“You could not! I could beat you even if you weren’t injured,” she responded defensively. 

“In your dreams! You know, with how bad you are, you should start walking around with dresses on like Sansa.”

“Now you are just being ridiculous Jon,” she said but her voice had a hint of a laugh in it, which made me chuckle. 

Which I regretted instantaneously as the pain in my ribs flared up causing me to grimace. 

“Laughing is not a very good idea Jon,” Luwin says as he had just finished examining and bandaging my leg and starts to move up to examine my chest.

“Are you sure that you are okay?” she asks, getting somber again. 

“I will be fine,” I force out through a grimace as Luwin touches my ribs. 

She looks unconvinced but nods her head at me in return. 

“I’m serious about the arrow thing though,” I add with a smile. 

She scoffs as she turns around trying to fight the smile forming on her face. 

Just then Robb comes stumbling in the door. 

“Ahhh Robb, there you are, I was about to send Arya here to track you down. Have a seat there and I will be over in a minute.”

“Sounds good,” he responds and hops up onto the table on the other side of the room. 

Arya headed over to chat with Robb and Luwin asked me to turn around, which I did so reluctantly. 

Luwin analyzed my back for a minute before asking me to sit back down. 

Just as Luwin finishes his exam and moves to get up I grab his arm to stop him. 

“Am I really going to be okay?” 

He gives me a small sympathetic smile.

“With a little milk of the poppy and a lot of rest, you should be fine in a few weeks Jon. Very sore, especially your chest, but that can’t be helped. Don’t you worry,” he says before getting up to go attend to Robb. 

I exhale in relief at the old maester’s words. I can still feel the pain in my chest with each breath I am taking. Like I am trying to swallow something extremely sharp every time I breathe. And the pain in my leg does not seem to be going away anytime soon.

All I can hope for is that it goes away soon as I sit there but I know that it won’t. 

I sit in the chair and watch as Arya and Luwin check over Robb just like they did me, with Robb stealing glances over at me as they do so. 

I still feel the piercing pain with every breath I take and I finally admit to myself that something has to be wrong with my ribs. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. 

I eventually try and get my mind off of my pain, so I leisurely gaze out the window and let my mind wander a bit. 

And immediately, it goes back to Daenerys. 

_I hope she is okay._

I know that she was going to go with Sansa to where her chambers are going to be, which undoubtedly will be up by all of the other Stark children. 

On the opposite side of the castle as my room. 

My room is down by the kitchen on the complete other side of the castle and isn’t nearly as big as the other rooms. But I am lucky to have a room and a bed at all so I try not to complain. 

_A few weeks._

That is how long Luwin said it would take for me to heal up and I am not looking forward to being on heavy bed rest for a couple of weeks. I can barely go a few hours without moving around or doing something. I don’t know how I am going to make it a few weeks. 

My thoughts are broken by Luwin saying my name. 

“Jon, I am going to head to my chambers to grab a few things and will be right back to explain everything.”

I simply give him a nod not feeling the need to speak. 

“Come on Arya, I will need help carrying a few things,” Luwin says to my youngest sister, to which she nods and they disappear out the door. 

I bring my gaze back out the window but before my musings, or “brooding” as my siblings call it, can continue, Robb speaks up. 

I really shouldn’t be surprised, it seems like it is an exceedingly rare time when he is not talking. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks and I bring my gaze back over to where he is sitting on the table. 

“Like we just sparred and it got way out of hand,” I joke which makes him laugh but then grimaces again, his hand reaching back to support his back. 

“Alright let's make a rule, no jokes,” he says back which incidentally makes me chuckle and I end up in the same pain that Robb is in. 

“I think that is a good idea,” I say through a grimace. 

“So, how are you actually doing?” he asks sincerely. 

I look over at him and give him a small smile. 

“My leg really hurts and my chest hurts every time I take a breath,” I say candidly. “You?”

“Well my side still really hurts and my back hurts every time I try to move, so better than you. But that makes sense considering you did the heavy lifting.”

I roll my eyes at his comment because it doesn’t feel like that is true. 

“I didn’t do the…” I start but he cuts me off. 

“Can you just stop the whole honorable and deny the truth thing for a minute and accept the actual real truth? Not the story, the truth. You killed four wildlings single handedly including one of the biggest men I have ever seen. I mean that guy must have been bigger than the Hound!” 

I shrug at him, which made my back tense up. 

“After he flung me into a tree and almost killed you and Daenerys,” I say now looking away from him, hoping he would drop the subject. 

He scoffed at me, making me look back at him but he was just shaking his head in defeat as he looked at the ground but it seemed he was going to drop it. 

“I told father the truth by the way...about what really happened,” he said and I look over at him with shock in my eyes. 

“Why? I told you it would be better…”

“He isn’t going to tell anyone else. And he agreed with you actually.” 

“But why did you tell him in the first place,” I ask again. 

“I didn’t really need to tell him anything, he figured it out based on how we were acting. Besides, it didn’t feel right taking credit for what you did out there. To him at the very least,” he said with shame in his voice. 

I let out a sigh and look out the window again. 

I hadn’t really considered how much that might weigh on him. But either way it was the right thing to do and we both know it. 

“I’m sorry I put that on you, but you are going to be Lord of Winterfell one day. Don’t you think that the tales of your first battle should be about how you killed a group of Wildlings single handedly or should it be that your bastard brother used your own wolf to keep you out of the fight and on the sidelines?” 

It was his turn to let out a sigh. 

“I know you are right, but that does not mean that I am going to have to like it,” he said and once again a silence fell in the room. 

Robb then falls into his own thoughts and we fall into 30 minutes of peaceful, restful silence, mostly filled with worried thoughts for Daenerys, I might have also nodded off for a few minutes as well. 

But eventually the door is reopened and Luwin walks back in through the door with an armful of different bottles, most of which are different medicines and pain relievers I’m sure. 

“Where’s Arya?” Robb questions Luwin. 

“Well, as we were walking back the family was just sitting down to eat so I had her run to the kitchen to grab some food for you to eat before I give you some Milk of the Poppy to help you two sleep.”

We both nodded as he put all of the different bottles on a table across the room closer to the cot that was in the room and started sorting them out. 

It wasn’t more than a few more minutes before Arya came walking in, struggling to keep the big tray of two plates of food from falling over but she seemed to be handling it okay.

She set the tray down with a loud thud on the table closest to Robb. 

“You are gonna have to work on your muscles little sister,” Robb commented. 

“Oh shut up Robb,” she said which, unfortunately for him, made Robb laugh. 

And he again immediately regretted it. 

“Did you forget our deal Robb,” I prodded and I was met with a stare. 

“Oh get off it Snow,” he said and smiled before I looked over at the Luwin who was walking over towards us with a bottle in his hands. 

“You two hurry up and eat so we can get you resting. But while you are eating, I can go over with each of you the extent of all your injuries. Oh Robb, I ran into your mother and explained to her your condition as well, so do not be surprised if she speaks to you about it.”

When he finishes he glanced over at me and the indication was clear and unsurprising. 

_If I was surprised that Lady Stark didn’t ask after my condition, then I either have not been paying attention all these years, I am extremely naive or I am delusional._

He then went into the list for both of us of all the injuries we sustained as Arya brought over our plates of food and we ate. 

Robb has a heavily bruised back, the obvious slice along his stomach and a bruised quad. 

I had a bruised back, three sprained fingers, the gash on my face, as well as the very deep one in my leg, a minor concussion, and two broken ribs. 

He also said that if the gash on my leg was just a couple inches deeper, I would have bled out before I could have gotten help. 

_Minor concussion, that explains the headache._

I had noticed the pain in the back of the head from where the guy slammed it into the tree, but between my leg and my chest, my attention had not been anywhere close to that. 

Same as my hand. 

He said that Robb’s injuries would not take as long to heal. He would probably be on his feet within a week and be sparring in two, certainly by the Royal Visit, while I probably would barely be on my feet when the Royal Family arrived and should not be sparring for a couple weeks after that. 

_No way I am going to make it that long without sparring. Everyone will be lucky if they can keep me down for two weeks._

When we had finished eating the tough meat and other stuff that was on our plates, Luwin went about tending to our other wounds that he did not do before. The ones that were not bleeding or did not put us in danger. He also started to go in and rebandage the ones he did already if he deemed them, not up to his standard.

He put a new bandage on my face and re-enforced the one that was on my thigh. He also put my hand in something he called a splint to keep my sprained fingers from moving so they would heal faster.

He also put some type of ointment on my chest that he said would make my ribs heal slightly faster and we would have to re-apply twice a week. I could feel a burning sensation as my skin absorbed it. 

Once he was done patching me up, he went and did the same with Robb. Taking off his few hours old bandage from around his stomach and applying the same ointment he used on me to Robb’s back. 

As he is doing that Arya is running about the room grabbing anything Luwin requests. 

“Arya, would you help your brother over onto that cot over there,” Luwin requested and she immediately moved over towards my chair. 

“Why?” I ask. 

“Well you don’t expect me to give you milk of the poppy while you are sitting in that chair, do you?” 

By that point Arya is standing next to my chair staring up at me expectantly. 

“But what about Robb?” I ask. 

“I can administer it to him in his own chambers,” he says simply while finishing Robb’s bandages. 

“Why not just do the same for me?” I ask really confused. 

_Why would he put me in here when my chambers are perfectly fine?_

“Because your chambers are clear on the other side of the castle and this will be simpler. Plus, I think your back will be more thankful tomorrow if you were to sleep on the bed in here instead of the one in your room.” 

I have always had the same mattress so I don’t really understand what the difference is. My bed isn’t the comfiest in the world by any stretch of the imagination, but it is serviceable.

My head starts to pound and the pain in my leg chooses that moment to flare up so the bed conversation loses its importance very quickly as I fight to stave off a pained groan. 

I shake my head because Luwin is still looking at me and I stagger painfully to my feet, with Arya helping to keep me steady as she leads me to the bed across the room. 

She pulls back the covers and helps me down as I groan in pain and relief when I make my landing. 

I painfully adjust myself until I find a spot that is semi comfortable. 

Once I do I reach with my injured hand to try and grab the covers but fail. 

Miserably. 

I try again a few more times, the only sounds are the stifled snickers coming from Arya, until I eventually give up and throw a glare her way, which sends her into a fit of laughter. 

I glare at her for a few seconds as she keeps laughing before she seems to come down from her laughter and approaches to help me. 

“Laughed at the injured guy, I see how it is, is there no loyalty anymore?” I ask her with a smile. 

She giggles again as she tucks the blankets around my neck.

“Well I need you to get better as soon as possible, because the sooner you recover, the sooner that we can get started on our new lessons,” she whispers to me making sure Robb and Luwin don’t hear before pulling back. 

“We will get started as soon as I can either hold a sword again or walk without a limp.”

“Or both,” she responds looking at me forcefully in the eyes.

“And we might have another participant as well,” I say which makes her ears perk up. 

“But Bran and Rickon will both get trained by Ser Rodrik, can’t they wait until then?” she asks, jealousy clear in her voice. 

“It is not either one of your brothers,” I say. 

“Then who?” she asks befuddled. 

“I told Daenerys that I could teach her the little I know to her as well.” 

“Who is Daen--Dae--” I would chuckle at her inability to say her name but that would hurt more than it is worth. 

“Call her Dany,” I say cutting her off. 

“Who is Dany then?” she asks, jealousy still clear all over her face. 

“She is the woman me and Robb saved in the woods from a very bad situation and the one that was on my horse when we came back. She said she didn’t like not being able to defend herself so I told her since I was already going to teach you, I could try and teach her as well.”

Arya looks like she doesn’t know how to feel about this new bit of news but before she can respond, the door to the room opens and I see Father enter the room. 

Then I see Daenerys enter right behind him and I am struck by a simple thought. 

_She is beautiful._

The thought definitely surprises me but is not an unwelcome thought. 

Her eyes first go to Robb who is just getting his bandages finished up, but her eyes quickly move over and our eyes lock.

I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. 

And I definitely did not want to. 

She is wearing a different dress than before, it is a little too big for her, but I can tell she has washed up as there is no longer dirt all over her arms, on her face, and in her hair. 

I smile at her almost against my will and she gives me a nervous smile back as she makes her way over and sits in the chair opposite Arya. 

I see her glance over at Arya, who I am sure is not giving her a welcoming look but looking over would require moving and that will just end in pain, so I keep looking up at her.

Not that I find that a bad thing or something hard to do apparently.

She eventually finds my eyes again and she smiles a brighter smile this time, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. 

“Hi Jon,” she says quietly. 

I don’t say anything but I feel myself smile in return and something in her eyes tells me she understands exactly what my silence was trying to tell her she looks down sheepishly for a second.

“How are you feeling?” she asks. 

I give her another half-smile. 

“Better,” I respond. 

We continue to just stare at each other as I find myself getting lost in her violet eyes, until Luwin’s voice breaks our concentration. 

“Jon,” he says and I startle and jerk towards him and I feel pain shoot up my back and chest. 

Pain flares harshly in my back and chest quickly and I release another loud groan. 

I feel something slip into my left hand and grab it tightly to try and ease the pain. 

I don’t know how long, but it isn’t until the pain subsides partially, that I look down and see it is Daenerys’ hand in my mind. We look up at each other again and she begins to draw her hand back but I squeeze her hand a bit tighter pleading with her silently to leave her hand in mine. 

Because it feels right. 

Because it feels warm. 

Because it feels...safe. 

It doesn’t make sense. 

I mean I have not even known this girl for a day, but it feels like the opposite of that. 

Like we have known each other for our whole lives. 

Like I can literally feel the energy she gives off.

Like there is a connection and pull between us that I could never understand or describe. 

A part of me is screaming to put up walls and protect myself like I always do with everyone. 

But unlike every other time, unlike every other person. 

I just don’t _feel_ like I need to.

So, when Luwin says my name again and I look back at him, slower this time, with my hand still firmly grasping Dany’s. 

“It is time for you to rest,” Luwin says holding up the bottle of the Milk of the Poppy. 

I nod at him and he moves to the side of the bed that Arya is on and raises a small cup to my lips and I feel the cool liquid slide down my throat and almost immediately my eyes start to droop and I slide into a deep sleep. 

* * *

**Arya POV**

I watch as Jon’s eyes slip closed after drinking the Milk of the Poppy and I feel a small amount of fear slip back into my stomach. 

Though the fear currently settled in my stomach could not compare to the tidal wave that consumed me when I saw him doubled over in pain after I ran headfirst into his stomach in the courtyard. 

I don’t know if any amount of fear and guilt will touch that moment of seeing my favorite brother in that much pain because of something I did. 

Jon has always been strong and sturdy. 

Unmoving. 

Constant. 

That is why it was so weird and shocking to see him doubled over, trying and failing to get a full breath, looking like he could barely stand on one of his legs, and his face with blood caked on it. 

It was weird to see him struggling. It was weird to see the person who, no matter what, when I looked, he was always standing just where we needed him too, it was weird to see him not be able to be there. 

He looked out for all of us, even Sansa when necessary. 

I let out a sigh and look up from Jon’s resting, peaceful face to the girl across the bed from me. 

I see her drop Jon’s hand that she had been holding carefully onto the bed, but she did not break eye contact with him. She continued to just watch him sleep. 

As far as I know, she only met Jon today, but it almost seems like she believes it is longer than that based on the look she was giving him and the look Jon was giving her. 

Their silent tense eye contact had been awkward to sit through, but I knew that if I said a thing their trance would have been broken, so I stayed quiet. 

Allowed them to be in their own little world for a few minutes. 

And admittedly that was not something I normally did. 

But I have not seen Jon smile like he did when he looked at her before. 

Not ever. 

And Jon deserved all the happiness he can find. 

Lord knows he never gets enough of it around here. 

But I still don’t know if I should be afraid of her or like her, despite that. 

Maybe both. 

Jon said her name was Dany and he had invited her to be a part of our much anticipated sword fighting lessons. 

And while I did not know who she is or what she was doing here, Jon seemed to trust her, so at the very least I was willing to give her a shot. 

I glance over and see Father is still talking to Robb. 

I look back at Dany, analyzing her. Since there was nothing better to do right now. She had the lightest hair I have ever seen. But she is pretty. Maybe even prettier than Sansa. She is also very short and has very pale skin. 

I remember her riding in on the same horse as Jon as they came back into the courtyard, but I had been looking at Jon and had been paying little to no attention to her at all, to focused on making sure my brothers were okay. 

She looks up after a few minutes and over at me, catching my eyes that were trained on her and seems surprised to find me looking at her. 

She gives me a nervous smile and slides back in the chair and curls in on herself slightly, like she is running or hiding from something. 

Which confuses me because when Jon had cried out in pain at the quick movement, she quickly and confidently grabbed his hand immediately without thought or reservation or worry. 

But now she seems to be the opposite of all those things. 

_There’s nothing scary in here, so what is she scared of?_

“You are the girl from the woods right?” I ask. 

She looks slightly surprised by my question as she meets my eyes again but shakes her head yes in affirmation. 

“And your name is Arya?” she asked in return and I nodded in agreement. “Jon talked about you a little on our ride back here. Called you his favorite sibling.”

I smile at that slightly. 

_I beat Robb!_

“So why are you here?” I ask. 

I know it is blunt but there is really no other way I can think of to ask it. 

But before she can respond Father comes over and joins the conversation. 

“She was living elsewhere, but something bad happened to her that your brothers prevented, and since she has nowhere else to go, she will be staying with us for a while. Her name is Daenerys Targaryen but you can only call her…” 

“Dany,” I say, interrupting him. “Jon told me to call her Dany after I couldn’t say her name.”

_Wait she is a Targaryen?!_

“Wait! Did you say she was a Targaryen?” I ask Father while also looking down at Dany who again has her eyes down. 

“Yes, but you are not allowed to tell that to anyone outside of your siblings, minus Rickon, myself, your mom or Maester Luwin, do you understand?” he asks. 

I hear his words and understand them but I am not thinking about that right now.

“You are a Targaryen! Like the old dragon riders! Like Aegon and his sister-wives Rhaenys and Visenya?” I ask her excitedly.   
She gets a relieved look on her face as she looks up before a smile blooms on her face. 

“I am,” she says shyly. “Do you like them?” 

_Like them?_

I nod my head excitedly. 

“I love them! My favorite was always Visenya!” I say excitedly and look up to Father and he has a small smile on his face. 

“Mine was always Daenys the Dreamer since I am named after her,” Dany responds and I feel a smile reach my lips. 

It is nice to have another girl not scoff at liking dragons. 

I look up at Father again and he is smiling down at me. 

“Do you understand Arya, no telling,” Father says to me again. 

“Yes, I understand.” 

He nods his head. 

“Well with that I still have some paperwork to do, I will see you tomorrow. Arya you can help Dany back to her rooms. She is now in the not so empty room near you,” he asks. 

I walk over and hug him briefly before backing away. 

“Yes, I can, good night,” I call as he makes his way towards the door. 

“Speaking of good nights, it is my turn,” Robb says as he looks over at us. 

“Where are you going?” I ask. 

“It’s time for some Milk of the Poppy and then some rest,” he says with a big smile.

I want to go over and hug him but I am afraid I might hurt him. 

As if sensing my thoughts, he opens his arms signaling me to hug him. 

“Hug gently,” he jokes and I try to hug the side he is not injured and he squeezes with one arm back. 

He nods at Dany 

“Good night,” he says. 

“Good night Robb,” she responds as he exits the room and Luwin follows him out. 

I make my way back over and sit back in the chair I was previously occupying. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes but soon the silence becomes unbearable for me, so I ask her about something Jon had said. 

“Jon said something about you joining us when he teaches me how to use swords. Is that true?” I ask her. 

“Oh yeah, he mentioned that,” she said, drawing back again. 

“But you wear dresses, why do you want to learn how to fight if you wear dresses?” I ask her. 

She didn't respond immediately, instead taking a few seconds to consider my question carefully, which for my admittedly impatient self, was irritating but I gathered my self control and waited patiently for her to respond.

“To be honest I had never considered the possibility that I would ever willingly pick up a sword, but after today, I think it became more clear to me that it would probably be a good thing if I had at least a little bit of self-defense skills. But where does it really say you can’t like both, just because I wear dresses does not immediately mean that I have to be a perfect lady and knit and hate everything to do with swords,” she asks and I honestly do not know how to respond. 

_I guess not, but it always seems that way._

“But I do not have to be a part of the lessons if you do not want me to, really Jon just offered because I was telling him that I do not like feeling defenseless.”

“I understand that,” I immediately echo without thinking. “And I guess you can come if you would like as long as Jon is okay with it. And I feel like it will be good to have someone not as good as Jon to practice against when the time comes.”

She nods her head in agreement. 

“Yeah, he is really good with a sword that is for sure. If he wasn’t, neither me nor Robb would be here right now most likely,” she says while her eyes are far off like she is recalling something. 

After a few seconds she shakes her head out of the memory and looks back at me. 

“Jon also said you had gotten pretty good with a bow,” she said with a sly smile. 

I immediately perk up and I feel a smile forming on my lips. 

“Oh yes! I am way better than Bran, though I am not as good as Robb or Jon just yet but I am going to beat them eventually. But Theon is the best of all of us when it comes to archery but is by far the worst of the three of them with a sword.” 

The picture of Bran’s irritated face when I had hit the target dead center while he was working with Robb and Jon flashes in my mind making a laugh escape my lips against my will. 

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, but the air around us is more comfortable than before. 

I glance out the window and I realize immediately that it is getting late and if we don’t leave here soon, Mother is going to be mad at me for being with Jon for so long for no good reason. 

Well at least what she considers a good reason.

I have never understood why she hated Jon so much. 

Aside from the obvious. 

But if she was so angry at Jon all the time, shouldn’t at least _some_ of that anger transfer to Father as well? 

I shake my head to try and rid myself of the same thoughts that have bounced around my head hundreds of times before and glance across at Dany who is still looking at Jon and I remember I said I would help her back to her room. They must have put her in the room in the same hallway that houses me and all of my siblings.

_Except Jon._

The very thought makes me angry again. And it also still continues to absolutely astonish me as the same thoughts I was trying to shake from my head come rushing back. 

I mean who could care about someone’s name and birth so much, something the kid has no control over and try to intentionally exclude and force them as far away from their family!

The only answer I have ever arrived at is one I do not necessarily like, but I know it is true. 

My own mother.

I don’t like thinking bad things about my mother, because even though I may not be the perfect lady like Sansa, she does love me and I love her. 

I attempt to squash that entire line of thought as I do every time it floats into my brain. I glance out the window again and stand from the chair, the darkness reminding me of how I got to that line of thinking in the first place. 

The sudden movement surprises Dany and startled gasp leaves her as she sits up straight in her chair. 

I smile apologetically at her. 

“Sorry about that,” I say to her as she lets out a relaxing breath. “If you are going to be staying here, you should know, my brothers say subtlety is not something I will ever be known for.” 

She lets out a half laugh before standing herself.

“Good to know,” she says with a smile in return. 

“Ready to head back?” I question to which she nods and we head for the door. 

I yank the door open and step out into the dark hallway. 

She falls into step with me as we walk shoulder to shoulder down the familiar hallway. 

I glance over at her a few times and her eyes are wandering every time I look over. Trying to take in everything she is seeing, but despite our breathing, our walk is quiet. As we are turning past the off shoot that leads to the library, Dany breaks the silence. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Sure.”

“Where are Jon’s chambers? Sansa wasn’t able to tell me earlier when she was giving me my tour.” 

I scoff. 

“No surprise there,” I comment under my breath but Dany hears it anyway. 

“What do you mean?” she asks curiously, but not unknowingly. 

I stop walking so I can look at her straight and she stops as well turning towards me.

“I mean that Sansa, in an effort to be just like our lady mother, holds the same general dislike and disinterest for Jon that my mother does. It is not extremely overt or bad or a huge deal but is something that is just...true and something the rest of us just kind of try to work around, we know it is there but don’t really talk about.”

I can see Dany thinking over what I said as she is looking at me but is lost in thought. 

_It is the biggest unspoken truth in Winterfell._

As I watch her think, it occurs to me that this started with a different question. 

“To answer your original question, Jon’s room is over on the opposite side of the castle near the kitchens. I can show you sometime.” 

She nods at me but I can tell she is still thinking, so I continue to walk, slower this time, and she falls in step with me. 

Our walk returns to the quietness as we turn into the hallway with both of our rooms in it. 

When we arrive in front of our doors I stop again and turn back to her. 

She looks up at me and gives me a smile which I returned. 

“Here we are,” I say, gesturing to her door. 

“Thanks for taking me back and talking with me a little, I will see you tomorrow. Good night Arya.”

“Good night,” I say quietly and head into my room. 

I begin to get ready for bed and am suddenly hit by how long this day truly was. It also hits me that I now share a hall with a Targaryen, but I am a little excited about that. 

I am not entirely sure how I feel about Dany yet, but she seems nice enough and is going to be in the sword lessons with me, so she is off to a good start. 

But we will see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Next up we go back to Dany's POV!


	7. The Spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been two weeks since Dany arrive in Winterfell. How is she fitting in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for everyone who read this chapter already, I accidentally deleted it and am reposting it now. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!

**Dany POV**

There is a slight wind that is making the cold morning even colder as I stand on the balustrade looking down on the courtyard. 

I have now been in Winterfell for two weeks, and for the most part the time has kind of flown by. Everyone has been running around getting everything ready for the royal family who is due to arrive in two days’ time. 

The thought brings my hand to my hair and I touch the now dark, brunette hair that is atop my head. 

It feels weird. 

It feels heavy. 

But I know it is a necessity if I want to get through the next few weeks. 

I glance over to Sansa who is to my right and is looking down on the courtyard with her same air superiority as I have come to expect from her. 

Arya is off doing god knows what.

I learned quickly just how unpredictable she is. 

I have become close with both of the Stark sisters during my short time in Winterfell, though I think I have more things in common with Arya than Sansa. Arya’s free spirit matches mine more than Sansa’s proper one does. Though I still enjoy talking to the older Stark girl very much. 

It was not hard to see why Arya and Sansa did not get along. 

They are like fire and ice. 

Hot and cold. 

Complete opposites. 

But in talking to both of them, I think they could make it through an entire conversation without yelling at each other if they just talked to each other a little, stopped assuming so much about the other and didn’t immediately dismiss the others view point. 

Despite her air of superiority, Sansa is a sweet girl and can be very pleasant to talk to. 

I have spent most of my time with one of the two Stark girls doing any number of things in preparation of the royal family, mostly just moving from this to that, helping with whatever Lady Stark needs at that moment. 

The other chunk of my time was spent checking in on Jon as he slowly recovered. 

I could tell he was getting more and more antsy to move around and do something as the days wore on but Luwin’s orders and Lord Stark’s persistence kept him in his bed. 

And the fact that he still had a quite visible limp when he attempted to walk helped as well. 

I tried to spend as much time with him as I can because despite how close I was becoming with the girls, I still felt most drawn to and the most comfortable around him. 

But I don’t spend as much time with him as I would like. Each time I voice my intention to go and see him, Lady Stark seems to always have something for me to do. 

When I finally do finish, I try and sneak off without telling her, afraid of her giving me something else to do. It helps that most of the time Arya comes with me. 

But now that Robb is fully healed and is back to being up and moving around, Jon has refused to stay in bed any longer. 

That is how I have found my way to where I am now, looking down on the courtyard as Robb, Jon and Theon set up the area for sparring. 

That was another thing that has happened. 

I had the distinct displeasure to have met one Theon Greyjoy. 

It was the day after I had arrived when I saw this brown-haired cocky boy come walking up to me with a jerk smile on his lips. 

His entire demeanor was identical to Viserys in a lot of ways. 

I immediately froze up. 

Luckily for me Arya arrived before he could say or do anything, and she had been quick to usher me away and warn me to stay away from Theon as much as possible. 

_No problem there._

From that point forward I have steered clear of him as much as possible. Of course dinner couldn’t be helped, but I sat between Arya and Sansa so it wasn’t so bad. 

But other than Theon, I don’t know if I have felt as consistently happy and content in...well ever. 

I still feel a certain amount of fear in my bones with every step I take. I have been living in a constant state of vigilance and fear for all my entire life. And that does not go away overnight. Over the last few weeks there have been times where I have been overly suspicious and I know I have been flighty and easily startled at times but I am slowly getting better. What has helped is learning how genuinely nice almost everyone around me is. 

Though I must admit that my progress has not been helped by the fact that Robert Baratheon is getting closer with every second that passes. 

But despite all of that, I never would have guessed that being kidnapped would be the best thing that ever happened to me. 

But it was.

So far. 

But I’m still worried that Viserys will come bursting through the door to snatch me away again at any moment. 

After a few days of having to be led around by someone all the time, Maester Luwin got me a more detailed map of Winterfell. Moving about the castle was a lot less confusing though it still takes me longer than it probably should. 

The clang of swords draws my attention back to the present and I look down to see Theon and Robb sparring with Jon standing sturdily off to the side. 

As I watch Robb and Theon move around each other, swinging their swords in air, each waiting for the other to make the first move, my eyes scan the area around and I spot Arya looking onto the courtyard hiding poorly behind a post with a jealous look on her face. 

_Well she will get her turn tomorrow._

Jon has agreed to give me and Arya our first lesson tomorrow and I have to admit that I am very much looking forward to it. Not as much as Arya, but I’m still excited. 

I never thought I would ever get the opportunity to learn how to use a sword nor did I think I would ever want to, but now that the prospect was upon me, I was giddy with anticipation.

That draws a thought to the front of my mind. 

_If given the choice, would Sansa want to learn how to fight? If it really was just her choice and not society’s or her mother’s, would she want to?_

“Sansa?” I ask the girl beside me breaking the silence just as Robb puts Theon on his back for what I hope is the first of many times. 

“Yes?” she says pleasantly. 

“Would you ever want to learn how to fight?” 

I can tell she is shocked by the question. 

“No, definitely not. That is not part of a lady’s duty and is extremely unladylike.”

Her answer is as scripted and proper as I was expecting it to be. 

“That is not what I mean,” I say with a slight laugh and she turns to me surprised still. “I mean that if it were just up to you and nobody else. No worrying about being ladylike or who would care about it or what society would say. Nothing like that applies, would you want to?” 

She looks stunned at the question. 

“I hadn’t ever really thought about that…” she whispers. 

“Well think about it.”

She looks down at the ground and I can see her brain working behind her eyes.

“But Mother said that being ladylike is what I should want.”

_This girl really needs to loosen up a little._

“Just because she says it, doesn’t mean that it has to be true. Don’t get me wrong, your mother is a great and wise woman and you should definitely listen to her and heed her advice, but that does not mean she is never wrong. Everybody is wrong at some point in their life. That is a fact. No one person’s words are an absolute truth. Everybody is wrong from time to time. It is part of being who we are. If we are not wrong, we do not learn. There are only two absolute truths in this world. One you are going to die, and the other is that your voice is your own and nobody else's. It belongs to you and only you. No one can take that from you.”

Those words were ones Ser Willem Darry spoke to me just before he died and I have clung to them my entire life. Even as Viserys got worse and worse, I clung to those words inside my head. 

_Your voice is your own and no one can take that from you._

Thinking of him always reminds me of his little house with the red door and a lemon tree outside. 

_The closest thing to home I have ever known._

Until now... maybe. 

“Huh…” Sansa lets out as she disengages eye contact with me and looks back down into the courtyard. 

I give her time to think and after a few seconds of watching the fight in front of me I ask her again.

“So, if it was just your decision and nobody else’s what would you want to spend your time doing? Would you want to join Arya in her sword fighting?” I ask with a smile. 

“Oh no, definitely not,” she says with a small smile matching mine before answering. “That just seems too messy and not something I would enjoy, let alone be good at. I really do enjoy spending my time sewing and I am fairly good at it.”

“Oh you are very good at it Sansa,” I say truthfully to her, making her blush before she continues. 

“But other than that, I don’t know…” she says trailing off. 

“Well think about it. And remember Sansa, that the person you should trust above all is not your father, your mother, or your siblings, but yourself. No one else. Just because someone says that something is true, or that something has always been one way, even if it is said by someone you trust as implicitly like your Mother or Father, that does not mean that it is true or has to stay that way.” 

_I say this while thinking about all the stories Viserys told me growing up. I had trusted him, and he was 100% wrong._

“What do you mean?” she asks, confused. 

“Well answer me this. How much different is your love of sewing and Arya’s love of sword fighting and archery?”

She looks aghast at my statement. 

“There is a big difference. Sword fighting and archery are no place for a lady. It is not proper for a lady to do those things.” 

“Why?”

“Because....” 

Her immediate response is stopped as she trails off and her thinking face returns. 

“Because why?” I ask her goading her on. 

“Because It is what we are taught. The Seven Pointed Star says so. That is just the way it is. It’s the way it has always been. It is what we are taught.”

Her voice is unsure and lacking the confidence it had earlier. 

“But why is it that way and why should that matter?” I ask her. 

She is looking at me with an unsure face. 

“Arya wants to spend her time fighting and riding off to battle while you would like to spend your time indoors sewing and worrying about the Prince. Why is what she wants to do wrong and yours is not?”

Prince Joffrey had been a constant topic of conversation amongst the girls as they were all excitedly anticipating his arrival. 

Especially Sansa. 

Sansa now has gone completely silent and is looking at me with a small amount of fear in her eyes. 

“Look Sansa,” I say stepping up and touching her elbow. “All that stuff you learn from your mom, you can choose to believe it if it is what _you_ think is right and what _you_ think is best. But don’t accept them as truth just because that is what she said or because that is what has always been true. Think about what you have learned and decide how you want to see the world, not how other people want you to see the world. Arya heard what you were being taught and decided that that life was not for her. She decided she wanted something else, and just because it is different, does not necessarily make it wrong. Always remember to have trust in yourself. It is the same as your expectations for this Prince. Not all princes are as handsome and noble as the songs make them out to be. Just think about my brother who kidnapped and raped your aunt.”

At this she shot up to meet my eyes and got defensive. 

“The prince is nothing like him!” she says with a fire to her I have not seen before. 

“You are probably right,” I say to appease her and she deflates a bit but keeps her eyes trained on me. “But I’m curious what about all of your interactions with him have told you that that is true?” 

She looks at me like I am crazy again. 

“Well none, I haven’t met him yet. You know that,” she says it like it is obvious. 

“That is my point. Don’t build him up or decide on what he is like before you even meet him. When he gets here, meet him, talk to him, watch how he interacts with everybody around him, look into his eyes and see what emotion is looking back at you, and then decide the kind of person he is. Only when you are able to see the whole picture, and hopefully he is everything you’ve dreamed of. But don’t decide that that is true just because you want it to be true.” 

She looks at me confused and shocked again before turning back to the courtyard yet again. 

And as we look down and see Robb continuing to launch Theon all over the yard Sansa turns silent.

I am taking it as a good thing because that means she is actually thinking about what I said and ever since I first got here, she has seemed very naive and gullible. And with who was coming, that could turn out bad for her. 

Hopefully, she chooses to think for herself, instead of being the culmination of what people want her to be.   
I am broken out of my thoughts when I hear Ser Rodrik’s booming voice. 

“Alright Jon, Robb your turn.”

My eyes focus back in on the courtyard as Jon steps forward from where he was at Rodrik’s side. 

He still has a small limp and the cut on his face has healed but scarred, but other than that, he is giving no indication that he is in any pain. 

He came face to face with Robb facing towards us and Robb had his back towards us. 

Jon glanced up at me and Sansa before scanning his eyes to the left. His eyes stopped at something and his eyes got darker for just a flash before returning his eyes to Robb’s in front of him. 

I look over at where he was looking and am surprised to see Lady Stark standing over the courtyard on the balustrade to the right of us. Her face is set in a calculating emotionless gaze as she looks at the spar in front of her. 

The clink of steel brings my eyes and attention back to the boys below. 

Now the day I was rescued has played through my mind hundreds of times since it happened a couple of weeks ago. I could tell you everything that happened without even thinking about it. It is because of that, that the spar below me is so baffling to me. 

All of Jon’s movements are different

His feet move slower from place to place. 

His swings are slower. 

His upper body is stagnant rather than moving like it was in the forest. 

My first thought is that the difference is fatigue and injuries, but he is showing no other signs of that being a factor. 

It is almost like he is doing that deliberately. 

Just as I think that he lunges and Robb kicks him to the dirt. 

I hear the groan and can see the grimace on his face as he hits the ground and I cringe as well. 

He gets up slowly and stands ready for another go, his back to us now. 

I glance at Robb and his expression surprises me. 

It is not happiness or gloating like when he beat Theon. 

It is confusion. 

Like he is trying to solve an extremely tough problem. 

_Is he seeing the same thing I am?_

We watch them go a couple more times and I continue to see the same two things. 

Jon moving slower. 

And Robb looking confused. 

Soon I realize it is time for me and Sansa to get to our sewing lesson so I turn to the still quiet Sansa. 

“You ready to head down?” I ask her. 

“History,” she says as an answer and now it is my turn to be confused. 

“What?” I ask her. 

“You asked what I would want to spend my time doing if no one else knew about it. I have always found the history of the seven kingdoms fascinating. Especially the tales of the Long Night and the First Men and the Children. I would always look forward to those lessons growing up.” 

I smile at her brightly because her statement is said in a slightly frightened voice, like she is afraid she is doing something wrong. 

Which I guess technically she might be. 

“That’s great Sansa, maybe you should start dedicating some of your time to read more about that, I’m sure Luwin would be happy to help,” I offer and she gives me a small smile. 

“Come on, we better go before we both get in trouble,” I say and she nods her head hesitantly as her thinking face falls back into place, but we start walking anyway. 

When we get there, all the normal suspects are there and Arya is unsurprisingly not there. 

We begin the day with the septa taking us through with today’s sewing lesson and it soon turns into the same gossip and stupid conversation it always does. Though Sansa does engage in some of the talk, for the most part she keeps quiet.

Soon Arya drops into her chair in a huff like she normally does and I smile at her. 

“How are you doing today Arya?” I ask with a smirk. 

She just huffs again and picks up the materials in front of her making me giggle slightly. 

After a few minutes of watching Arya pout next to me I decide to try and get her distracted some.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?” I ask quietly and immediately she perks up and looks over at me. 

“Has Jon told you where he wants us to meet him? I mean we can’t just do the lesson in the middle of the courtyard like they do,” she asks excitedly. 

I hadn’t really thought about that. 

“Hmm, no he hasn’t said anything to me but I am sure he has a plan,” I say and she nods her head in response. 

“So, did you watch them spar this morning?” I ask. 

“Yeah! Robb was the best which isn’t that surprising, he usually beats the other two.” 

_Robb usually wins? Then why did he look so confused?_

“How did Jon look to you? Was he in much pain?”

“Well it didn’t seem like he was, although his limp did get worse the more, he moved around and he grimaced whenever he fell on his chest.”

_He should have rested longer._

“If Jon is still injured, why did he insist on sparring?” Arya asks me. 

“He was getting bored,” I state simply. “Could you do nothing except sit in your bed for two straight weeks?” 

“Oh definitely not, that would be terrible,” she said with a look of disgust. 

“That’s right. And Jon is built very similarly to you, so after so long doing nothing, he couldn’t do nothing anymore.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she shrugs and turns back to attempt her sewing. “He still should be more careful.”

I smile at the young girl and start to listen to the conversation happening throughout the room and am unsurprised to see Jeyne Poole still talking. 

Right now the topic is back on the royal family visit, specifically the prince. 

Again. 

“And everyone says he is as charming as can be,” she gushed and I have to try extremely hard not to roll my eyes although I can basically feel Arya doing it to my right. 

“Yeah, whoever is able to nab the prince is going to be one lucky girl,” another one in the room said with the same sing-songy voice. 

“Well that lucky lady might just be in this room,” Jeyne says elbowing the silent Sansa out of her thinking. 

“Hmm?”

“Were you not listening at all?” Jeyne asks, surprised. 

I can tell Sansa is somewhat flustered at the question but after a few seconds of awkward noises coming from her mouth, I see her slide perfectly back into “perfect lady” posture. 

“Sorry I was just thinking,” she says in her sweet voice but I can see her eyes are still somewhere far away still. 

“What about?” Jeyne asks expectantly. 

Sansa glances over at me then down to her lap. 

“Oh all the usual, castles and summer skies, and brilliant green plains.” 

“And did your favorite Prince feature in any of those thoughts?” another girl I have forgotten the name of asks with a beautiful smile. 

Sansa blushes at the question. 

“Maybe,” she says quietly and all the girls laugh at Sansa’s lie. 

We lock eyes for a second and I give her a small nod in encouragement. 

The conversation picks up again, with Sansa participating a little bit more and it continues until we seem just about done. We are just wrapping up when a steady voice brings all the small conversations to a sudden halt. 

“How are we all doing in here?” Lord Stark asks. 

There are a lot of people scrambling saying “milord” in surprise. 

“Father…” both of the Stark sisters whisper in surprise at the same time though I doubt they realized it. 

He glances around the room with a smile and when he lands on me, I give him what I hope is my best smile I can muster and he gives me a small head nod in acknowledgement. 

“Father what are you doing here?” Arya asks and he smiles at his youngest daughter then gives a fake look of hurt. 

“I need a reason to come down and see my two favorite girls?” he asks and I smile. 

I glance over and see Sansa is blushing. 

I look at Arya and she is looking up at him with an inquisitive look. 

“You haven’t ever before?” she asks and he chuckles in response.

“No I haven’t. But I just wanted to come down and thank you all for the hard work you have been doing to help prepare the castle. I certainly couldn’t do it all by myself, so thank you.”

I smile as he speaks. 

_I see why the people of the North love the Starks._

Lord Stark accepted all of their admiration and words of thanks with ease before turning to the Septa and speaking again. 

“Would you mind if I borrowed Dany for a few minutes?” He asked. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh no feel free, we are about done here anyways,” she says and he smiles as I stand from my seat. 

I keep my eyes down as I walk past him and as I walk out the door, I hear him say something in farewell before falling in step behind me. 

We walk in a tense silence as he leads me to his office which is not too far away. 

But the tense cloud over us makes the walk seem miles long. 

I don’t know exactly why it feels tense, but it does. 

As I sit down in the same chair I did two weeks ago he sits in his, looking at me with a sympathetic smile. 

“How are you doing?” he asks. 

I don’t really know what kind of answer he is looking for, so I say the first thing I hope makes sense. 

“I’ve been good, everyone here has been very nice and welcoming.”

“Good, I’m glad,” he says with a smile. “Now the reason I called you up here is I wanted to talk to you about what the next few weeks are going to look like for you.”

I nod at him letting him know I understand and he continues. 

“I know this is not going to be easy or fun or anything like that, but I hope you understand what I am risking by having you here.”

_I still can’t believe you are allowing me here at all._

“I do understand and I can't say enough how much I appreciate it. And I honestly still don’t understand why you are doing all this considering the danger it puts you and your family in. I mean why go through all this for just me. I don’t get it.”

He sits back and his chair and stops to think before looking at me. 

“I don’t have a great reason or response for you other than it is the right and honorable thing to do.”

_Some might consider killing the family who murdered yours honorable as well._

But instead of saying that I simply say, “I can’t thank you enough Lord Stark.” 

He smiles before continuing to the point of the conversation. 

“So, like I said, the next few weeks may be extremely boring and risky for you, but for as much of the time as possible, I need you to just stay in your room.”

I look down at my lap then back up at him and nod. 

“You will be allowed to bring books and read them to your heart's content, the kids I’m sure will visit when they can, but I need you to stay in your room as much as possible. I can’t stress that enough. There are a lot of people who are coming that knew your family and know what your family looks like. We dyed your hair, but your violet eyes will easily bring questions and your face is almost an identical copy of your mother.”

I feel tears prickling my eyes as he talks about my family. 

A family I will never know. 

A family I will never see. 

“Don’t open your door unless you know who it is and there is no one else in the hall. That’s another thing, if you hear voices you don’t recognize in the hall, remain silent. I don’t want people asking who is in your room. I will have meals brought to you, so you won’t have to worry about that as well.”

I nod at this again. 

One part of me thinks this all a little extreme.

But the other part of me realizes how being sloppy just once could mean _disastrous_ consequences not just for me but for all of the Starks. 

“What about when they arrive? Where would you like me to stand?”

“Ahhh,” he groans and rubs a hand over his face. “I hadn’t thought about that.” 

He looks over at the wall thinking.

“I think we will probably put you in the back, near Jeyne Poole and the others. Keep your head down and don’t make eye contact with anyone if you can help it. We can’t dye your eye color. Make sure to wear something black as well if you can.”

That makes sense. 

Targaryen’s are known for our purple eyes. 

As far as black goes…

“Black shouldn’t be an issue. I still have Jon’s big black cloak from the day I arrived.”

I look down as I say it and I can feel my cheeks turning pink.

When my eyes shift back up, Lord Stark is looking down at me with a sly smile on his face, which makes me look down again. 

I start talking again, trying desperately to avoid the strange energy that had filled the room and the nervous pit in my stomach that formed all of a sudden. 

“I tried to return it, but he refused to take it back. Said I should keep it until I had one made of my own.” 

“That sounds like him,” he said with a sad smile. 

He seems to get lost in his thoughts for a moment before shaking his head and focusing back on me. 

“So, like I said, I know that this may not be a very enjoyable few weeks for you, but it is necessary,” he says very seriously which I understand. 

I give him a small smile. 

“I understand completely Lord Stark. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate all you have done,” I say to him as he smiles back at me. 

I stand and make my way for the door before Lord Stark’s voice stops me. 

“I am glad you are here child,” he said with great affection.

I feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes as I smile back at him. 

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” I say and he continues to smile at me. 

Once I am out the door, I wipe the tears from my eyes and look down the hallway in front of me. 

“No doubt Lady Stark has something I can help with,” I think, slightly snarky and start walking down the hallway. 

_I wonder if the boys are still sparring?_

I hope not, Jon needs as much rest as he can get. 

_I should make a point and go see him later. Maybe Arya will come with me._

As I walk, I try to keep the thoughts and fears at bay about the people who are coming to this castle in two days and stay focused on what is in front of me right now. 

These next few weeks are going to be a lot of things. 

Scary. 

Fearful. 

Complicated. 

Long.

It is going to be a lot of things, but easy and simple are not two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I got a few questions about why Dany would be coming to the meeting at all. You are all right that she probably wouldn't be there. but when I first wrote that section I really liked that part of the interaction between her and Ned so I decided to leave it in.


	8. The Realization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the boys start sparring again Robb starts to notice some differences in the Jon from the forest and the one back here in Winterfell. 
> 
> Entirely Robb POV!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for you comments and kudos I really appreciate all of them! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!

**Robb POV**

I place the big barrel that holds the sparring swords down in the dirt with a groan. 

This is the last day of semi-normality before the Royal Family arrives tomorrow. 

I look behind me to see Theon walking over nonchalantly, with the same cocky grin he is always sporting, on his face. I actually enjoy Theon when he is not being an ass. 

The problem is that 70% of the time, he is being an ass. 

Which makes it tough. 

I see Jon come walking into the courtyard from the direction of his room. 

He still has a slight limp but other than that, he isn’t showing any signs that he is in pain, even though I know his chest still hurts. 

I got off lucky. 

My back was still a little bit tight when I woke up this morning, but other than that, any evidence of our skirmish a couple weeks ago is gone if you didn’t count the scar along my side. 

Jon did not get as lucky and when we sparred yesterday, I could see him struggling to get a breath a few times when he would get knocked down. 

But he remained as quiet as always. 

Which brought an interesting thought back into the forefront of my mind. 

Yesterday, I beat both Theon and Jon soundly in our spars, which was normal for our entire life. Me and Jon would both always beat Theon, except when we were feeling bad for him, which was not very often. 

Compared to me and Jon he was helpless with a sword. 

Although to be fair, compared to him, me and Jon are hopeless with a bow. 

But it always went Jon would be able to beat Theon and would always lose to me. 

That's how it always was.

But in the forest, I watched Jon cut through the first two wildlings like it was child's play, while I struggled to beat one. Based on that display you assume, probably correctly, that he is far better than me. 

Then yesterday, I was back to beating him. 

And soundly too. 

That just does not make any sense. 

My brain had chalked it up to him still not being at 100%. But as I had thought about it more throughout the day, the holes and opportunities I had spotted and exploited were not ones that had to do with physical ailments or fatigue. 

They were mental mistakes. 

Gaps in his swinging that were easily fixed and sloppy. 

Two adjectives that did not fit with Jon’s personality as he was precise in almost everything he did. 

It was almost as if they were intentional. 

Like he was letting me beat him. 

Which doesn’t make sense. 

_Why would he allow me to beat him?_

The question had been rattling around my head all morning and I vowed to watch Jon more closely during today's drills. 

Theon grabs two sparring swords and throws one of them towards me which I catch with ease and we turn and face each other. 

Ser Rodrik walks up then and indicates for us to start. 

As Theon approaches, I easily push his sword to the side. 

The thing about Theon is he moves fast and overall is a good swordsman, but he is too predictable and he gives away what he is going to do. 

After a few rounds, I don’t have a mark on me and Theon has an angry look all over his muddy face from his face plant. 

As Theon stomped off, Jon picked his sparring sword and stood opposite of me and got down into his usual stance. 

We both wait for the other to move first.

We are both patient fighters. 

Everyone knew that. 

And we both know the importance of waiting for our opponents to engage first. We once just stared at each other for 10 minutes without either one of us moving forward or making any indication that we were going to start at all before Rodrik yelled at us to get a move on. 

From that point on, me and Jon decided we would trade off engaging first. 

And it was his turn this time. 

And he did just that as he moved forward right at me and I blocked his downward strike. 

We block and parry for a couple of minutes before I start seeing the same openings he has in his swings as he usually does. 

The same openings even untrained swordsmen would be able to exploit without even trying. The sort of openings that get you killed in battle. 

But instead of using the openings like I normally do, I continue our dance. 

Letting the openings go. 

The longer we go the more confused Jon seems to get. 

Then I start attempting to mirror him. 

Leaving the same holes for him to exploit that he is me.

I feel awkward as I swing the wrong way. It goes against everything my body wants to do. It feels so unnatural that I almost trip a few times because I’m thinking about my footwork and my swing so much. 

But despite me stumbling around like an idiot and leaving huge enough holes in my swing that Rickon could send me flying into the dirt, Jon just continues dancing around the outside. 

He moves forward and swings a weak pointless strike down on my right-hand side, trying not to make it super obvious that he is avoiding me. 

But I know he is avoiding me all the same. 

It is obvious if you were looking for it like I am. 

We spend another minute going around in a pointless circle before I can’t take this game of chicken any longer. 

I lunge at him. 

Sword out of position and completely exposing my back to an easy strike.

I prepare for a pain against my injured back. 

But it doesn’t come. 

In a real fight if I were to do this, I would end up a corpse on the ground within 3 seconds. 

I should have ended up with my face in the mud just like Theon has probably thousands of times. 

But I didn’t. 

Instead I hear Jon jump back a few feet and ready himself again. 

I feel myself growl in frustration in the direction of the trees before I turn around to face him again. I try to get myself to calm down a little before I turn around. 

_How does he not take advantage of that? Is he seriously letting me win?_

It doesn’t work.

I can still feel my anger boiling. I turn and I’m sure my anger is showing on my face as a new wave of confusion shows briefly on Jon’s face. 

Confusion and worry. 

I charge again. 

Recklessly. 

Stupidly. 

I do the same thing again. 

Exposing my back to the same blatant strike that fucking Sansa could take advantage of. 

And again, instead of ending face down in the mud with a pain in my back, I simply stumble forward. Catching my momentum on the storage barrel 

And I feel my composure snap. 

“Okay Jon what the _fuck_ is going on?” I hear myself asking. 

I hadn’t meant to say it like that.

I meant to be more strategic in how I was going to ask him about this because Jon won’t cave easily. 

But my confusion and anger at the thought that he has been letting me win all our lives has my composure nonexistent and my anger boiled over. 

_I never was known for keeping my mouth shut._

Jon is looking at me with his face contorted into a look that could only be described as confusion, but I also see the same hint of worry in his eyes, which is extremely rare for Jon. 

Not even in the forest did I ever see worry cross his face. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks cautiously. 

I glance over at Theon and Rodrik who are both wearing identical confused expressions on the faces. 

_Do they seriously not see it?_

I look between the two of them and they both just keep looking at me like I am insane. 

_I'm really going to need to spell it out for them aren’t I?_

I turn to Jon who is still wearing a confused look, but now it looks more forced and the underlying look is an even greater one of concern and worry. 

Like he is afraid of what I am about to say, which only furthers my suspicion that he has been letting me win. 

“I just lunged completely out of position. Twice! So far out of position that _Rickon_ could have put me on my ass! In a real fight anyone would be able to put a sword through my back within two seconds. At the very least you should have put me face first into the mud, but you simply just backed off. And you are moving a lot slower than you ever did in the forest.”

I can see the worry completely shine through onto his face instead of the confusion that had been there, which means I am becoming more right than I want to be. 

_He has been letting me win!_

“Robb I am injured, it would make sense that I am slower,” Jon tries but if there was one thing that Jon was never good at, it is lying. 

Avoidance and stubbornness he has in bigger supply than a smith has steel. 

But he could never lie. 

At least not to me. 

And he is definitely lying now. 

“Don’t lie to me Jon, you are not very good at it,” I shoot at him and he looks down in shame and I know I am right.

_How could you let me win?!_

“So do you want to actually try this time or are you just going to waste both of our times?” I asked annoyed. 

He huffed and did a thorough scan of the courtyard. 

Like he was looking for something. 

Or someone. 

Or somewhere to run to. 

But he then looked back at me square in the eyes with a determined look. 

“Okay,” was all he said. 

And that was all that was needed before we lowered ourselves into our stances and we focused on each other again.

I watch as Jon readies himself and am shocked when he lowers himself into a slightly different stance than he normally does. 

Jon has a different look in his eyes. His eyes are much more serious and have a much more serious calculating look to them. His grip is tighter around his sword and his stance is slightly more closed than it normally is. 

I feel a twinge of fear run up my spine as I ready myself to face an opponent I have faced thousands of times, but somehow have never actually faced before. 

And have no idea what to expect. 

It is my turn to move first. 

I steel my nerves and grip my sword tighter before I move towards him, quickly and decisively, swinging my sword down towards his right side. 

His response is quick as he bats my sword to the side and looks to strike quickly in return. I barely get my sword back up to block his strike. 

But instead of the normal jolt at the impact, a strong shiver from the force of the impact goes shooting up my arms. 

His strike has so much more power to it than it usually does, and I feel myself lose focus for a split second as the shock of the force behind his swing rattles me for a moment.

But I force myself to shove that aside and refocus because he is swinging again. 

And again, I am barely able to get my sword up in time to block the strike. 

I duck under his next strike and roll out of the way, hoping to find some reprieve, but Jon is back on me before I can fully stand or even get my feet fully under me. 

It continues like that for a few minutes. 

Me basically running and barely able to keep upright against Jon’s unrelenting attack. He is quicker and more powerful than I ever imagined he would or could be. 

With each block of his powerful strikes, I could feel the power and strength in my arm growing weaker, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he had me on my back. 

He was better than me. 

Far better.

It isn’t close. 

How he ever got this good and I had no idea is something I will have to ask him. 

I get my sword up and block his next strike and throw it to the side and I shove him a couple feet from me. 

_At least I am not completely outmatched._

He turns back and is staring at me, giving no indication that he is going to reattack, like he is giving me a break before finishing me off.

Then his eyes disengage from mine and glance over my head. 

Almost immediately the steeled look on his face disappears and is replaced by something I had never seen on his face ever before. 

Not even in the forest. 

And it wasn’t just worry. 

It’s fear. 

It isn’t on his face very long, but I know I saw it. 

When his eyes find mine again, they are still filled with an uncertainty. 

Like he is caught between a rock and a hard place. 

Like he has no idea what he should do. 

He raises his sword again but his posture is less sure of himself and his demeanor is sulkier than it was just seconds before. 

I raise mine in return, but instead of waiting for me to attack, he immediately charges and swings his sword down. 

But this time his swing is softer and when it meets my sword, it has nowhere near the same amount of power as it did just seconds ago. 

_Why is he going back to this all of a sudden? Going from a powerful sure of himself swordsmen that might be able to give Father a fairly good fight to this fake, forced, so much worse swordsmen that lets Theon give him trouble._

I throw his sword to the side and we resume our dance.

But instead of on the run like I was, I am controlling the fight. 

And I see the same holes in his swing that I saw before. 

Only now I am too confused by the entire situation to say anything to him. 

Eventually the fight ends the same way it always does, Jon on the ground with me standing over him. 

I help him up and he gives me a small nod before looking up at the balustrade above that holds all the people who usually watch us. 

I watch his eyes as he scans and when his eyes land on something, he quickly looks away. Before I can even ask him what is going on, he pushes past me and strides out of the yard without another word.

I look after him for a few seconds before looking up where Jon had been looking both just now and during the fight. 

What I see is nothing out of the ordinary.

Mother and Sansa are along the balustrade looking down at me. 

The only thing that surprises me is that Dany is not with them like she usually was at this time of day. 

They both give me big genuine smiles as they look down at me. 

I try to return their gesture with a smile of my own, but it feels forced as my mind is still trying to put everything together. 

_There is nothing here that is out of the ordinary, so what the fuck is going on?_

I turn around to see Theon picking up the swords from around the yard with Ser Rodrik watching quietly from the side like he always does. 

I turn around and help Theon finish picking up before turning to Rodrik. 

“May I ask a question?” I ask him. 

“Of course,” he responds. 

“Did you know that Jon was that good?” 

He seemed both confused and startled by the question. 

“No I did not, but it is not surprising.” 

Now it is my time to be confused. 

“How is it not surprising? The only reason I saw a difference was because he was leaving an opening in his swing that would have gotten him killed in the forest.” 

“Well I have seen him a couple of times swinging at a dummy late into the night. There are very few advantages of being the disregarded one sometimes. And one of those is that you can swing at a dummy until the crack of dawn without people really noticing.” 

“But isn’t it weird to you that he then chooses to pretend like he is worse than me when in actuality he could run me into the ground if he wanted to,” I ask flabbergasted.

He gets a look on his face like he knows something I don’t, which makes a small amount of anger settle in my stomach. 

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” he says dismissively, which just furthers my anger, but I can tell that if he does know something I do not, that he is not going to say anything. 

_Does Father know?_

I turn around from him and stride towards the tower that holds the Father’s office. 

“Robb, where are you going? We need to do archery,” Rodrik calls after me. 

“I’ll be back,” is my only response and I double my pace towards the tower that holds Father’s office. 

I know Father is super busy with the royal visit coming tomorrow, but this is not a question that can wait. 

As I walk up the stairs, my mind is still racing and I am still thrown that I could not tell before now that Jon was holding back whenever he was fighting me. 

And the fact that Rodrik had called Jon the “disregarded one” was in the back of my mind but I shove that aside for the time being. 

I approach the door that leads to Father’s office and stop. 

I know I can’t go in there all riled up and scatterbrained so I take a deep breath and calm myself before knocking on the door. 

When I hear the “come in” come from inside I open the door to see him with his head down overlooking the mountain of paperwork that always seems to be scattered around his desk. 

He looks up as I sit down and a smile breaks out across his face. 

“Robb, what can I do for you?” he asks sitting back in his chair. 

I am not really sure how to start because my thoughts are still kind of everywhere. 

“Can I ask you a question about Jon?” I ask tentatively. 

His posture immediately tenses at my question and his eyes become more closed off. 

“What about him?” he asks with a certain amount of fear in his voice, which just seems to add to my confusion. 

Despite his tone I continue with my question. 

I then went on to tell him everything that had happened. From my snapping at him to Jon having me on the run to Jon’s scared look.

Father looked at me for a few seconds with curiosity in his eyes as he took in the story.

It was after 30 seconds of silence that he talks again. 

“So what is your question?” he asks. 

“My question is why in the world would Jon hide how good he is?” I ask exasperated. 

He takes a second to think before responding. 

“I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason Robb,” he says evenly. 

Hearing the same dismissive explanation from him that I got from Ser Rodrik is forcing my irritation back up. 

“But what is the reason?” I demand of him. 

He let out a sigh. 

“If I had to guess, it is to avoid attention. You know him, he hates any attention that is put on him. He has always been that way,” he says. 

_Has he always been that way or did he just learn to live that way?_

I let out an unamused sigh.

_Disregarded one._

Rodrik’s statement flashes through my mind again. 

A small part of me is considering that they might be right. Maybe I am reading way too far into this. Maybe he does downgrade his skills just so he can avoid drawing attention to himself. 

But another, much larger part of me didn’t think that was true. 

I couldn’t really put a point on why this was bothering so much, but some part of me just felt like something was missing. 

Like someone or something is why Jon chooses to hide how good he really is, not just his fear of being seen. 

It might have been my young age, but all my memories of Jon as a kid have him smiling. 

Often and always. 

Whether we were running around Winterfell pretending to be Aegon the Conqueror and Dareon the Good or we were in the library during our lessons with Luwin and Jon spent the entire time with a nose in a book and a smile on his face. 

It wasn’t until we started to get older that he got more and more solemn and quiet. 

But I was a kid, my memory could be totally skewed. 

I break out of my thoughts and look at Father who is still looking at me with a curious face. 

“I just feel like there is a reason he hides it that is better than he does not like attention. I don’t know what it is but it feels like there is something missing. Like there is some event or person or reason I should know but am just missing for whatever reason.” 

My voice raised as my irritation did. 

But Father just gave me a sad look. 

“I think you are just reading way too far into this Robb,” he said simply before turning back to the paperwork in front of him and I know the conversation is over. 

I get up to leave when his voice calls out to me as my hand reaches for the door handle. 

“Robb, I know this probably goes without saying but, I am expecting you to be on your best behavior these coming weeks. I am expecting you to keep your siblings in line if you need to,” his voice is stern but soft at the same time as he speaks. 

I nod at him in return. 

“You can count on me Father,” I say with the most confidence and sincerity I can muster and he gives me a big smile in return. 

“I know I can,” he says. 

With that I open the door and stride down the hallway back towards the archery lesson I know is waiting for me. 

_Another hour of listening to Theon brag and gloat, what fun._

When I get back to the courtyard, I am surprised to see Jon there, standing next to Theon who has his arrow aimed at the target. 

Neither of them seem to realize I am approaching. 

“Ahhh!” I yell just as Theon releases and the arrow goes flying over the wall, missing the target by a mile. 

Theon looks over at me with a huge scowl on his face and I burst out laughing. 

Rodrik has a smirk on his face but Jon is standing there, eyes having a distant look to them and he has the same stone face he normally does.

I can tell he hasn’t been listening to anything going on for a while now. 

“Hey, don’t hate me because you can’t focus,” I jest at Theon. I expect him to say something dickish in return but instead he throws me a glare, which just makes me laugh more. 

Before I can stop him though he angrily slams the bow and arrow into Jon’s chest in frustration. 

The big, heavy, painful groan that Jon let’s out reminds me a lot of the one a few weeks ago when Arya had slammed into him.

Though Jon recovered much quicker with this one as he stood back to full height almost immediately but still with a painful grimace on his face.

It was a painful reminder of how much pain Jon must still be in. 

All the pain he hides behind his stoic mask. 

When my worried eyes finally break from Jon I look over to Theon expecting to see some sort of shock or guilt on his face. 

But I see none. 

There is a little bit of guilt in his eyes, but other than that his face is set in a smug, arrogant, and almost pleased manner. 

“Look alive next time Snow and that doesn’t happen,” he says smugly.

“Don’t be an asshole and that doesn’t happen!” I say in anger striding over towards Jon and Theon’s face drops immediately from smug to regret. 

_Like he forgot I was there._

“You alright?” I ask Jon when I get close enough, gripping his shoulder in what I hope is a comforting manner. 

“I’m fine,” he says as the grimace falls but his face still tense with pain. 

“You sure? Do we need to go see Luwin?” I ask. 

He shakes his head no and I step back to give him some space. 

“Why don’t you see if you can top his ass, I’ll go after you,” he says, though the pain is still evident in his voice. 

“Do you want me to punch him for you?” I ask, half serious, half joking. 

He lets out a small laugh but it quickly turns into a grimace and shame runs through me. 

“Sorry, no jokes still, I forgot,” I say. 

“It’s alright,” he says as the pain falls from his face. “And no, if I want to get him back, I will mix it into sparring.” 

I let out a small laugh and nod my head before picking up the disregarded bow on the ground and moving over to the target and grabbing the four arrows in the target before walking back and stepping up to the line in the dirt. 

As I line up my first shot, my thoughts go back to Jon. 

_Maybe I am reading too much into Jon’s behavior, maybe I am not. But either way, I am going to be watching Jon much closely from now on. See if my brother has any more major secrets lying around that I do not know about._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> I will try to respond to any questions this week I am sorry I haven't until now.


	9. The Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is the day before the Royal Family arrives and Jon has agreed to give Dany and Arya a short sparring lesson. But as he and Dany grow closer, will he be able to accept what is in front of him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all of you Catelyn fans, I would consider this chapter as the Point of No Return. So consider this your second warning after the tags. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading this story! 
> 
> Hope you all are staying safe!

**Jon POV**

My chest still hurts and I am having to limp slightly as I stride towards the shed where hopefully I am able to find some of the smaller sparring swords me and Robb used to use when we were younger for Arya and Dany to use in our sword lesson today. 

My ribs and chest had been feeling better, only a slight irritation in the grand scheme of things as I moved and walked, and I had managed the hits in each of my spars I lost to Robb so the blows were to my back and not my chest, saving myself from a lot of pain and unnecessary sympathy.

The fact that he also was deliberately not going for my ribs helps as well. 

I shove away all the worrying thoughts at Robb’s behavior and demands during our most recent spar as I know that those consequences are coming later. 

No matter what I did, my leg is still going to hurt like a bitch, but I just swallowed the pain. 

And I didn’t want everyone feeling sorry for me. 

If I was a better swordsman, then I wouldn’t have these injuries. 

It is my own fault. 

No one else's. 

But as I push the storage room door open and another small flare of pain runs up my arms and into my chest. 

Whatever pain I’m in is more than worth it if you ask me compared to sitting and staring at the same four blank walls all day every day. 

I have always been someone who needs to move and be doing something, so sitting around doing nothing was driving me insane. 

The first week wasn’t so bad because I spent most of my time sleeping and healing, but it was the second week where I was up all day and my mind was running at a million miles an hour that I started to go crazy. 

Arya, Robb, and Dany came when they could, but with the Royal family visit just days away, they were helping with preparation most of the time. 

One thing that did surprise me is that each time my door opened, I found myself hoping and praying that it was Daenerys that walked through the door. 

And no matter how many times I thought about it, I couldn’t figure out why I was longing to see her. 

And I had been thinking about it a lot. 

The best explanation I could think of was that I was worried about her and how she was fitting in. 

That was what I had convinced myself of. 

Consciously at least. 

The few times I let my brain wonder or entertain other thoughts, I immediately shove them away. 

Those kinds of thoughts will only bring pain down the road. 

So I let my mind be convinced that all I felt was worry. 

And the flutter in my chest when she nervously stepped through the door was all connected to my _deep_ worry for her. 

Daenerys would always tell me of her day and what she had done. She was thrilled she was fitting in as well as she was. I was happy that she somehow got along with both Arya and Sansa. 

_The world is a crazy place._  
Sansa had obviously not come to see me at all, but whenever Arya did she would ramble about Dany and how great she was and would complain for what felt like hours about how she should have gotten here sooner. 

Not that I minded the rambling at all. 

I have always loved Arya’s company. 

Dany and Arya had even come to see me last night together, which they had developed a habit of doing every couple of days. 

The first thing Arya said upon arriving was immediately demanding what time and what place the lesson for today was as Dany laughed her adorable laugh behind her. 

I had told her it would have to be just after midday when everyone was the most busy, and it had to take place in the Godswood, as that is the most secluded spot in the castle that has a good amount of space.

Arya had beamed and yelped in excitement, probably injuring mine and Dany’s ears in its high pitch before diving into breaking down that day's sparring. 

As Arya had been talking, I glanced over at Dany I could see there was something that she wanted to say but was actively choosing not to. Like there was a question that she was wanting to ask but was refusing to. 

Before there was ever a break in the conversation where I could ask her about it Lady Stark had come in demanding that both of them go to bed, throwing a discreet glare in my direction. 

Her same disappointed scowl on her face that she normally had whenever only I was looking at her. 

I wanted to hate her, I really really did, but when I saw her smile at Arya or worry over Robb or sew with Sansa with a content smile on her face, I couldn’t hate her. 

She was a good mom. 

Great mom even. 

Just not to me. 

Because I did not deserve it. 

I’m a bastard.

I did not deserve a full family. 

I should be enormously grateful that I have the one I do because not all bastards are as lucky as me. 

Shaking my head of my thoughts and looking back around the storage closet I see the old dusty swords that no one had touched in years sitting on a shelf nearby. 

I shuffle over careful not to knock anything and grab them down. 

I had debated starting them off with some of the smaller steel sparring swords but decided that the lighter wood would be easier to start with. 

I exit the closet and make my way towards the Godswood. I cross the courtyard, where just hours before Robb for the first time in our lives seemed to realize I was not giving 100% in our spars. 

Haven’t been for years. 

The reasons why that is true, I choose to not think about right now.

I didn’t like that he finally noticed but I wasn’t surprised. Robb has always been observant and after what happened in the forest, I knew I would have a hard time falling back into my old ways, but I had to try. 

Life would get tough if I didn’t

At this point all I could hope is that I could find a happy medium. 

When a Robb had snapped, he had honestly scared me, but I still only complied with his demanding voice because I had not seen Lady Stark around the yard. 

I should have known that she was lurking about because when my eyes saw her dark red hair and piercing blue eyes just above Robb’s head I knew immediately that I was going to be in trouble. I should have just faked it again, but I knew that Robb was going to be able to tell if I wasn’t giving a hundred percent. 

I didn’t have a lot of great options. 

I was lucky I got out of there with as little trouble as I did. 

Now all I could hope for is that _only_ my dinner is inedible and I will be allowed to eat at any of the meals when the Royal Family arrives. 

I reach the clearing in the Godswood I wanted and sat down on the big rock in the center. 

I let out a sigh of relief as my leg and ribs thanked me for time off, both had been getting increasingly worse as the day had worn on. 

I stare into the blue sky above me and let all my thoughts and pain leave me for just a little while as I wait for the girls to show who most likely were waiting for the best time to sneak away from the crowd. 

Unfortunately, we are not going to have a lot of time and are not going to be able to do very much today before we all must get back to our various duties around the castle. 

I start to go over what I am going to have them do in my head when I hear two distant voices approaching me. 

Both voices matching the girls I am waiting for. 

It takes a few seconds before they finally come into full earshot, but eventually I can hear what they are saying. 

“Oh come on! That is ridiculous,” Arya is saying admonishingly. 

“It is not Arya, it is true. It’s a fact.” Daenerys says in response as they come into view.

“Well you shouldn’t. That is a fact,” Arya says and Daenerys laughs in response. 

“What are we talking about?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at them. 

“Dany said that she feels like more of an outsider than usual in here, which is just ridiculous,” Arya said. 

I chuckle and I glance at Dany who is just rolling her eyes. 

“Why is that ridiculous?” I ask poking the bear. 

“Because she isn’t an outsider!” Arya screams in response. 

I laugh while Dany shushes her. 

I look at Dany and she has a small shy smile on her face that makes my stomach flutter nervously the same it always does when she is around. The foreign feeling was one I quickly came to identify with Daenerys.

I break out of my thoughts and look back at Arya. 

“Look Arya, I agree with you. To me and you and even Sansa she is not an outsider anymore. To most people she is probably not that way. She has become part of our family,” I say glancing at Dany who is sporting a huge relieved grin on her face. 

“But something you have to remember Arya is that this place is powerful, it is old, it is sacred. And if you don’t have Northern blood in you it can be extremely off putting and intimidating. Even for people with Northern blood it can be scary as I remember a certain scared young girl who refused to step foot in this place until she was 8 years old,” I say the last part with a smirk as I see Arya go embarrassed at the memory. 

Arya spends a few seconds trying to come up with a good reply but finally just lets out a huff in defeat before crossing her arms in irritation. 

I debate saying something else to pick her spirits back up but Dany beats me to it. 

“Arya either way I really appreciate what you said. It is nice to be a part of a family,” She says putting her hand on Arya’s shoulder who smiles back up at her. “I appreciate what you both said.” 

She says the last part looking up at me from just over the shoulder of my youngest sister. 

Dany has a shy and appreciative look on her face as we stare into each other's eyes.

I look back into the purple eyes that are looking at mine. 

I feel myself get lost in her eyes. Like I am letting myself drown in her. 

Everything else is left behind. 

An abandoned memory. 

I only see her. 

Her violet eyes.  
Her heavy dark brown hair that is covering her beautiful light blonde hair.

Her sweet smile on her extremely kissable lips. 

I don’t know how long I allow my pipedream thoughts to rattle around in my head, but our focus is stolen when Arya speaks up again. 

“Hey!” she says loudly, making both of us jump back slightly. “Not that standing here while you two just look at each other isn’t a ton of fun, but can we get to the lesson now!” 

I look back at Dany and see she has a blush on her cheeks that no doubt is mirroring my own. 

We both look down, not sure what just happened but both of us know that now is not the right time to try and figure it out.

I look at Arya and she has the excited sparkle back in her eyes which brings a big smile to my face.

I reach down and grab the two wooden swords from the rock beside me. 

They look at me confused at the size of the swords. 

“If either of you ever want to get good at this, you won’t be able to overpower or outreach your opponents. You will need to be quick and be able to strike at the smallest of openings. That means a smaller sword for more agility.” 

Arya beams at me and I turn the swords reaching out to hand the swords to them. 

When they take the swords, I start to put them through some of the beginner lessons I remember from when I was younger. 

I am extremely cautious to make sure Arya doesn’t muddy herself up at all or goes back with any bruises for Lady Stark to see. 

_I am already in for it after going at Robb today._

The hardest part I find is not teaching them or knowing what to say to them to help them improve in their stance or their grip. 

It is staying focused. 

My eyes seem to only want to find Dany and stay there. 

I have to pull my focus back to Arya a couple times when I start to lose my focus watching Dany.

I don’t know if she can tell that I am watching her more than I should be or not, but each time she catches my eyes on her, she gives me a shy smile before focusing on the drill again.

I put them through drills for right around an hour until, much to Arya’s chagrin, I call the lesson quits. 

Arya pouts a little before giving me a big smile. 

She looks like she wants to hug me but is still hesitant after what she did a couple weeks ago. 

“Just be careful,” I say and she runs up and gently hugs me which I return lifting her up from the ground. 

“Thank you,” she whispers in my ear. “That was amazing.”

“No problem.”

She steps back a few steps before looking between me and Dany before speaking again. 

She has always been similar to Robb in the fact that she is rarely not talking. 

“When is our next lesson?” She asked excitedly, earning a laugh from Dany. 

“I don’t know,” I say cautiously. I know that it will be hard while the Royal family is here. Add to the fact that Dany most likely won’t be leaving her room while they are here. 

Arya looks disheartened for a second so I decide to give her a little hope so she isn’t moping around for the next hour. 

“It will be tough to get one in while the Royal family is here, but we can try to find a time to sneak one in but no guarantees.”

Arya lets out an enthusiastic yes before turning towards the exit. She starts to walk but turns back when she sees Dany not moving. 

“You go ahead, it will look better if we all come back at different times.”

Arya doesn’t look entirely convinced of the reasoning but she never did have a long attention span so she simply shrugs and starts skipping happily out of site. 

Once she is safely out of ear shot, I look over at Dany. 

She looks weird with Dark hair. 

Not bad. 

But different. 

“You know that we aren’t going to be able to get a lesson while they are here right?” She asks as the silence stretches on still staring into the trees that Arya had just disappeared into. “I mean I am not going to be allowed to leave my room, let alone make it all the way down here.”

I bend over and grab the wooden sword that Arya has left on the ground. I don’t allow the pain that shoots up my leg to show on my face. 

“Yeah well, if I didn’t say that she would spend the next hour moping around the castle and she is not known for keeping her mouth shut when she is upset.” 

My comment earns a small chuckle. 

“No I don’t suppose she would be.” 

I grab the other wooden sword from her hand and turn to look at her. 

“Everything makes sense?” I ask. 

“Yeah, for the most part. It helps that you are such a fantastic teacher for sure.”

I scoff at her statement. 

“That’s not true,” I say dismissively. 

“Yes you are Jon,” she says in return, forcefully looking me straight in the eyes. 

Her eyes are determined and her face is set in a serious expression. 

“I’ll take your word for it,” I say trying to step back and away from this line of conversation, because I know there are a lot of people way better at this than me. 

But before I can get too far, she takes two bold steps forward and places her hand on my upper arm. 

My eyes go quickly down to her hand and up to her eyes. 

The contact freezing me where I stood. 

I couldn’t move if I wanted to. 

I look deep into her still determined eyes but they have slightly more of a pleading look to them. 

Like all she wanted was for me to believe her but I couldn’t. 

It couldn’t be true. 

I may be okay, serviceable at best. 

But as I look down into her lovely violet eyes, I almost start to let myself believe it. 

Like all the proof I could ever need was in her eyes. 

I feel the urge to bring my mouth crashing against hers rising steadily in my haze filled brain. 

We could have been standing there for hours or just seconds, I have no idea, but way too soon she seems to realize what is going on and she drops her hand and stares at the ground avoiding my eyesight. 

Stepping away from me. 

Away from the bastard. 

_She will never see me as anything else._

She looks uncomfortable as she stands there unsure of what to do. 

“You should get back, I am sure that they are looking for you.”

_Before I do something that ruins our friendship._

She nods her head as she looks up at me. 

“You can go, they are probably looking for you to,” she says quietly. 

_Looking for me? Not a chance._

“They aren’t looking for me,” I say back to her and she looks at me confused. 

“You have been gone just as long as we have, maybe even longer,” she says as if it is obvious. 

“Yes, but Dany once last year I left on a horse for an entire day to just kind of be by myself for a little while. Our lesson had been cancelled that day so I didn’t really have anything to do. Didn’t tell anyone or anything. And no one realized I had been gone until I strolled back through the gates. So I am not too worried about anyone realizing I am not around.” 

She has a sorry look in her eyes before she slightly reluctantly turns and starts to walk silently back towards the castle. 

But just before she disappears out of sight, she stops and looks back at me. 

“Thank you for the lesson Jon. I really do appreciate it.” 

The sincerity in her voice forces a smile out of me as I look back at her. 

“You’re welcome Dany,” I say trying to match her tone. 

She smiles and then disappears into the trees. 

Once I am sure she is out of ear shot I feel myself let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding on to.

I lean over again and pick up the swords that I had dropped at some point in the conversation and I feel the sharp pain shoot up my leg again and into my ribs. 

_I need something for the pain._

Now that I did not have the lesson to focus on, the pain in my leg and chest had come back and I know I could not go the rest of the day without some kind of relief. 

I start making my way back towards the castle, using the swords as a crutch of sorts. I try to keep my limp to a minimum but with every step it becomes worse. 

I eventually make it back to the storage room. And put the swords away in a much more reachable and accessible place before making my way towards Luwin’s study. 

Luwin is able to rub some kind of ointment on my ribs and leg and I can feel the pain slowly dripping from my muscles. 

Luwin tells me I should still be resting but I tell him there is no way. 

As I exit Robb immediately finds me and drags me into another project that he needs my help with and we spend the rest of the afternoon finishing that and before I know it the sun is dipping below the sky. 

“Let's head to dinner,” Robb says and I fall in a limping step beside him. 

When we arrive, everyone is already sitting at the table and looks up at us as we walk in. 

Everyone is in their usual spots as me and Robb drop next to Theon with the three girls across from us. Dany in her usual spot in between Arya and Sansa acting as their buffer. And Bran and Rickon are down at the end opposite the parents. 

“There you two are. I was about to send someone to grab you,” Lord Stark says with a smile. 

“Sorry we just finished up,” Robb responds as the cooks come sweeping in with all the plates of food. 

Once my plate is placed in front of me it is exactly what I was expecting. 

If you were to just look at it, my plate doesn't look that different but instead of the lean steak cooked perfectly that is on everyone else's plate, mine is massively underdone in the middle, making it as close to inedible as you can get. And I also know from experience to not even touch the stew that is in my bowl. 

I glance up and find Lady Starks eyes bearing into me like they normally do at a time like this. 

Her silent piercing glare only saying one thing. 

_You deserve this._

And I do.

I look down at my food, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone and draw any unnecessary attention. 

Everyone makes small talk for a couple minutes and I keep my eyes down and my ears mostly just tuned out until I hear Lady Stark ask a question that easily gets my attention. 

“So Dany, Arya, where were you two this afternoon? No one could seem to find you two,” she asks with complete sincerity in her voice. 

It takes a lot of control for my head not to shoot up in surprise. 

No trace of scrutiny in her voice which is a good thing. 

I know that if she finds out that I am teaching her daughter how to fight, I will be in for it like never before and I definitely do not want to know what that is. 

I slowly turn my head up and see both Arya and Dany glancing over at me expecting me to come up with something in response but I can’t say anything. 

But I can’t leave them hanging either. 

So I bring my hands just under my chin and bow my head slightly, like I know Arya has seen Lady Stark and Sansa do thousands of times before. 

Dany still looks confused but Arya recognizes it immediately. 

“Godswood,” she says a little too forcefully but not unlike her as she is not known for her subtlety. 

I see recognition shine behind Dany’s eyes and luckily she is able to pick up the story from there. 

“Yeah Arya wanted me to take me to the Godswood to see the Weirwood tree before the royal family arrived and we both found some time today. We started chatting and lost track of time. I’m sorry if we were needed,” Dany says in her most pleasant and ladylike voice. 

“Oh no it wasn’t that big of a deal, I just noticed the two of you had seemingly vanished and was just curious as to why,” Lady Stark responded. 

I connect eyes with Dany very quickly and I can tell that she is slightly annoyed that no one seemed to notice I was gone to, no doubt our conversation from just hours ago is flashing through her mind. 

“And how did you find the Godswood?” Lord Stark asked her and Dany let out a little embarrassed laugh. 

“Unsettling is the best word I could put on it,” she says with a smile which makes everybody chuckle. 

“I feel the exact same way and I have lived here for nearly 20 years,” Lady Stark echoes with a smile and quickly the conversation continues to flow despite the minor hiccup. 

It is only a little while longer until people start to head off in their different directions and soon it is only me, Robb, and Lord Stark left. 

“Robb if you don’t mind there are a couple of things I want to go over with you for tomorrow before you turn in.” Lord Stark says as he turns to his eldest son. 

“Sure,” he says standing with his father while I stay at the table. 

“Jon, you are welcome to join us if you would like,” Lord Stark offers. 

“I’m okay Lord Stark thank you,” I say politely. 

“You sure Jon?” Robb asks. 

And I nod in response.

“I wanted to get a little bit more time on the practice dummy tonight to help build my strength back up.” 

Robb looks at me with suspicion in his eyes, but Lord Stark simply nods.

“Well don’t tire yourself out, I will see you tomorrow,” he says. 

“Good night.”

As they disappear down the hallway I stand and start to make my way back out into the courtyard when my way is blocked by Lady Stark. 

I meet her eyes for a second before I force them to the ground not wanting to be disrespectful and I know that she doesn’t want me looking at her with my bastard eyes. 

It irritates her, she says.

“I assume you know why the meal went as it did?” she asks in her icy tone that is only ever directed at me. 

“Yes my lady,” I say, keeping my eyes down. 

“You should know better than to even entertain the idea of besting your betters. Did that make sense or was the vocabulary to advanced for your bastard brain to understand?” she asks with malice. 

It sounds like a mocking question but I have learned the hard way to answer every question she asks me in a time like this. 

“I understand my lady.” 

“I thought you were finally beginning to fully understand your place but clearly I was wrong. I will have to begin watching you much more closely again, which is just exhausting. Why do you feel the need to make my life harder all the time bastard!” 

“I’m sorry my lady.”

“Let something like what happened today happen again and the punishment will go back to being worse, if it doesn’t already. Do you understand?” 

“Yes my lady.” 

I can feel the same guilt that I try so desperately to shove away flooding my thoughts again. 

“Remember bastard, I do not like doing this, but you bring it on yourself. You force me to be this way. You force me to do this to you or you will never learn. You learn your place and it will not have to be this way, but you can never seem to learn!”

“I’m sorry my lady.” 

_Why do I continue to force her to be someone she does not want to be because of my stupid decisions?_

“You will not be eating tomorrow morning, so do not bother showing up for breakfast.

“Yes my lady.” 

She starts to walk away before I hear her turn around towards me again. 

“And I also assume that you know to make your _bastard_ presence scarce at the feast tomorrow,” she asks, her air of superiority biting into the word bastard.

My temper rises in me at my own stupidity as she says every word.

I swallow my guilt and disappointment and self-hatred at the statement and try to keep my voice as even as possible. 

I had been looking forward to going but it is perfectly understandable why she would not want me there. 

_That didn’t make the anger stirring in my stomach deflate any though._

I continue to feel the sickening anger roll in my stomach. 

“Yes my lady,” I force out. 

She huffs in approval and turns and walks down the hallway. 

I do not raise my eyes until I am sure that she is a safe distance away. 

I start stalking outside. 

My pounding steps echoing in the hallway as I let the smallest bit of my anger come out as I burst into the courtyard and I stalk over too where the practice dummy is luckily still set up. 

I reach and rip the nearest sparring sword that is standing in its carrier out with as much power and anger as I can before making my way over to the motionless dummy in front of me.

I still for a second in front of the dummy before the superior image of Lady Stark flashes through my mind and guilt and anger and hatred crash through me as I swing the sword down at the dummy with all the strength I can muster. 

I don’t scream in anger like I want to. 

I don’t grunt in exertion like I want to. 

I don’t wince in pain like my body feels like it _needs_ to. 

I don’t breathe like my muscles are demanding me to.

I just swing at the dummy with all the strength I can muster. 

The only thing my eyes are processing is the shredded dummy in front of me and each new slash I make that is left in my wake.

I let my emotions run wild. 

I let my normally tightly wound emotions spill over with every swing of the sword. 

Letting all the pain and anger and neglect and hatred and guilt I feel go flowing out of me as my energy does. 

I feel the tears draining down my face. 

Coming down harder and harder with each erratic swing.

Finally on my last swing I feel my leg collapse under me and I collapse into the useless heap that I am onto the ground. 

My breathing is short and wild. 

Like it always is. 

My head is spinning. 

Like it always is. 

I feel like I am about to pass out. 

But I never do. 

I haven’t every other time this has happened and I don’t think I am going to start now. 

I feel my breaths start to return to normal and the world around me starts to become less of a blurry mess. 

I stay like this thinking of nothing except my breathing until I can take a full deep breath.

This is not the first time this has happened.

It is not often. 

But enough. 

The worst part is I can never feel when one is coming. 

Just some little thing happens and everything suddenly becomes too much and all the emotions I try and keep bottled up all come pouring out of every part of my body at once.

It is not fun. 

And it is always scary when I can’t manage anything other than a short wheeze of a breath and when I try to look at what is right in front of me and all I can see is a spinning messy blur.

I would never wish anyone going through them. 

_I don’t even know what to call them._

I take two more deep breaths, which hurt my ribs but no more than usual so I push the pain to the side. 

I look around and am more than pleased to see that the courtyard is still empty and no one seemed to have witnessed my little breakdown. 

I stand again although my leg still feels unstable. 

I don’t know whether or not I should go to my room.

I know that physically I should go to bed. My ribs hurt, my leg is weak and the rest of my muscles are already starting to get sore. 

Not to mention my eyelids feel droopy and heavy.

But I also know that my mind is still way too busy and active for me to stand a chance of sleeping right now. 

_The odds of me regretting this tomorrow are high._

Despite the thought I limp back up to the dummy and ready myself again. 

I take a deep breath before bringing my sword down with precision across the enemies chest.

Now instead of swinging with reckless abandon, I make sure my sword is landing exactly where I want it to. 

Every time.

I can feel my muscles fatiguing even further but I continue to swing. 

Enjoying the tranquility of the night where only the soft clang of my sword banging against the dummy is all that can be heard. 

It is quiet. 

It is calming.

It is peaceful. 

That is until a voice breaks me from reverie. 

“I should have known to just come straight here,” Robb voice booms and I wince at the volume of his voice against the quietness of the night. “But I was being overly optimistic to think you would have gone to bed already.”

I turn around so I can see him and he is walking towards me with a small smirk on his face. 

“How often do you come out here at this time of night?” he asks with a smile but I can tell he is looking for a real response and seems to be fishing for information a little bit.. 

“Occasionally,” is all I say in return and he nods. 

“What are you doing out here? I thought you were going to turn in after your meeting with Father?” 

_This is one of the few times I can say Father without much worry._

“I was but when I left I got to thinking about how stressful and crazy these next few weeks are going to be, so I thought…” he trailed off as he brought his hands that had been behind his back until now in front of him and in his right hand is a bottle of rum. 

No doubtedly from Father’s stash. 

This wouldn't be the first time that we had done this but it would be the first time in months.

_After today, a drink sounds like a good idea._

“Best idea you have had in a while,” I say and he smiles. 

“I still have to grab some mugs for us, come on,” he gestures towards the kitchens but an idea stops me from following him.

“Actually you go grab three mugs while I clean this up,” I say. 

“Why three?” he asks confused. 

“Just trust me,” I say before turning to clean up the area around me. 

It takes a little longer than usual to clean up because of the pain in my chest and in my leg slowing me down a little.

But just as I finish Robb comes strolling back with three mugs in one hand and the bottle safely in the other. 

As he approaches, I turn and start walking in the direction of the Stark family bedrooms. 

Robb soon falls into step beside me, slowing down once he catches up. 

“So who is the third cup for?” he asks, holding out the mugs to which I grab from him.

“Dany,” I say simply. 

“Dany?” he asks in response. 

“Yeah, she is about to spend the next who knows how long locked up in her bedroom to avoid being seen. I thought spending a little time with her tonight might be a good idea,” I say continuing to walk. 

He nods in agreement and we walk in silence for a little while before Robb speaks again.

“You know I feel bad for her, having to do nothing other than sit around in her room. I mean I get why, but it still must suck.” 

I simply nod in response, careful not to talk as we are nearing the Lord’s chambers and I don’t want Lady Stark to realize that I am out here. 

We arrive at her door and I indicate Robb to take the lead which he does happily stepping up to the door and knocking on it with a confidence I know I will never possess. 

It takes a second before the door swings slowly open to reveal Dany still in her clothes for the day looking out at us with a confused look on her face. 

She looks at Robb first then her eyes glance over at me and I give her a small smile which she returns before moving her eyes back to Robb. 

“What is this?” she asks cheekily. 

“The uncertainty of tomorrow brings the liberation of tonight,” Robb says in his most charming voice which brings a laugh from Daenerys. 

“Uh huh and what liberation did you bring?” she asked in response with a questioning smile.

Robb then produced the rum from behind the door. 

She lets out a laugh before opening the door for us to follow her in. 

“And whose idea was this liberation?” she asked, looking at me as I closed the door behind me. 

“It was his idea, I am just a tag along,” I say sitting down on the chair opposite the bed where Dany had sat down, a book she must have been reading discarded to the end of the bed. 

Robb had moved to the table and was pouring out the drinks. 

“To be fair the drinking was my idea, it was Sir Brooder over there's idea to include you,” Robb says ratting me out. 

She looks over at me with a grateful smile. 

We stay staring at each other for a few seconds and only break apart when Robb turns around with three mugs. 

We both reach out and grab a cup from him and I immediately take a big gulp. 

I glance at Dany as she takes a small sip and she chokes on the drink a little bit, earning laughs from me and Robb. 

“Too strong?” Robb asks while still laughing and Dany throws a glare his way, making me chuckle. 

“Stronger than I was expecting...but not too strong,” she says before taking another drink and swallowing it no problem. 

We chat for a few minutes about nothing in particular, for the most part I stay silent as the other two banter back and forth. 

Soon I finish off my cup and set it to the side, and my already tired body and heavy eyelids start to feel the effects of a long day and I have to fight hard to keep my eyes open. 

“Oh come on Snow!” I hear Robb say admonishingly and my eyes shoot open again. “Don’t tell me you're done after only one. Has it been that long since we’ve done this?” 

I shoot him a tired glare. 

“How often do you guys do this?” Dany asks with a smile. 

“Oh not that often. In fact it has to be a few months since we last did this actually. Obviously, it has been longer than I thought if one drink already has this guy falling asleep.”

“Fuck you Stark. I can hold my liquor better than you and you know it,” I fire at Robb with a smile which Robb laughs at while standing from his place leaning against the wall. 

“Obviously not. Anyone want a refill?” 

I shake my head in rejection before he turns to Dany who mirrors my response. 

“One is more than enough for me I’m afraid,” she says. 

“Suit yourselves,” he says before pouring himself another. 

A comfortable silence falls over us and I stare out into the blackness through the window in her room.

Robb slides back down to the floor with his refilled glass just before Dany breaks the silence. 

“Jon can I ask you something?” 

Her voice is tentative and shy, like she isn’t sure if she should have spoken at all. And most likely wouldn’t have in normal circumstances.

“Sure,” I say, turning my head back to look at her. 

“Why didn’t you eat at dinner?” 

The question surprises me. 

And scares me. 

Of course the real reason is obvious to me but I can’t say it. 

Not to them. 

It will just lead to more questions and consequences. 

And will make me look weaker to them then I already do.

“You know I was wondering the same thing,” Robb says before I can respond nodding at Dany in support. 

“What are you guys talking about?” I ask, trying desperately to deflect the question. 

They both give me looks of irritation mixed with “I don’t believe you” eyes.

“What she is talking about is tonight at dinner, all you did was sit there and push food around your plate. You didn’t actually eat any of it,” Robb says as if it is obvious as Daenerys nods in agreement along with him.

_When did everyone else start watching my every move? It was a lot easier when everyone generally forgot I was there._

I look down at my lap trying to come up with a good solution or explanation but all I can come up with is the obvious.

“I just wasn’t hungry,” I say looking back up at them, hoping that I can sell the lie.

“Do you remember what I told you earlier Jon?” Robb asked his speech slightly slurring from the rum he was still drinking. 

I had a guess as to what he was referring to but I wanted to hear him say so I shake my head no. 

“You are a horrible liar,” he answers and I look down at my lap again. 

_How the hell do I get out of this?_

The thought is running through my mind and I am coming up empty. 

“So Jon, the real reason?” Robb asks. 

I look up at them and they are both looking at me expectantly. 

My mind is racing to come up with a viable reason as to why I didn’t eat, that is not _your mom kept me from eating and it is not the first time or the worst thing she has done to me._

“What could it possibly be that is making you freeze like this?” Robb asks, getting slightly exasperated. 

“Does there have to be a reason? Can’t I just not eat if I don’t want to?” I ask defensively. 

They look at each other and then back at me. 

It is clear that neither are buying my deflections but I know that I cannot tell them the real reason. 

“You can just not have a reason, but it is obvious that you do based on how scared you look right now,” Daenerys says.

That word hits me harder than I thought it would. 

Scared. 

She sees me as weak and scared. 

Of course she does. 

Why wouldn’t she?

_The more important question is how I ever thought that there was the smallest chance she saw me the same way I am starting to accept that I see her._

I obviously know that I am a coward and a general waste of space. 

But hearing confirmation that she sees me that way, has my throat closing and speaking in any type of normal tone I think is going to be hard.

“Can we just change the subject?” I ask, keeping my voice as steady as possible, also hoping my reputation for being stubborn will help me and it seems that it does as Daenerys lets out a dejected sigh and Robb slams his cup on the table after finishing his third glass. 

“For now,” Daenerys says before looking back at Robb who is starting to succumb to the effects of three full glasses of powerful rum.

Silence follows. 

Uncomfortable silence. 

I look around the room, desperate for anything that could strike up a conversation. 

Finally my eyes land on the discarded book at the end of her bed. 

“What are you reading?” I ask Dany and she looks up at me as if I am breaking her from deep thought. 

“What’d you say?” she asked. 

“What book are you reading?” gesturing to the book. 

“Oh, ahh it is something I found at the library that details part of the history between the Nights Watch and Wildlings.” 

“Finding it interesting?” 

“Yeah! I have always loved reading about history!”

I smile at her obvious joy. 

“Who is your favorite person throughout history?” I ask and immediately a smile spreads on my face. 

“Daenys the Dreamer. I am named after her.”

I go through my memory trying to remember which Targaryen she is. 

“Is she the one that had the…uh like premonitions through her dreams right?” I ask her. 

“Yes! She is the one that predicted the doom of Valyria. It is because of her that the Targaryens left Valyria and were able to survive when no other Valyrian cities did.” 

Excitement and happiness radiated from her as she went into a full summary of a book she had read on that segment of Targaryen history. Even if we had the book here, I would not need to read it with how much detail she is going into. 

I listen to some of what she is saying but mostly I just watch the unfiltered joy that continues to shine on her face and somehow makes her more...beautiful. 

But the thought sends words flying to the front of my brain. 

Weak and Scared. 

That is how she sees me and I know that.

Cowardly.

I swallow my thoughts and focus in on what she is saying again as she dives into another book she had read back in Essos but the thoughts refuse to fully leave my mind. 

She does not stop talking for another 10 minutes. 

She barely pauses to take breaths. 

And I sit quietly listening to her smooth voice talk energetically. 

It is Robb’s loud snore that finally cuts her off and we both look over at him on the ground, mouth open and drooling a little bit. 

Honestly it is so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if it woke up the whole castle. 

Daenerys stops talking at the loud sound and we connect eyes again. 

And we bust out laughing. 

We don’t stop laughing until our sides hurt. 

Once we have finally stopped, she looks at me again with a soft gaze. 

“Thank you guys for coming up. I really appreciate it,” she says glancing over at Robb affectionately. 

I swallow the anger I feel at her looking at my brother with such warmth and even out my voice to respond. 

“Of course. We will come up as often as we can. I imagine you will have to kick Arya out most of the time.” 

She laughs at that as her gaze comes back to me and I can see she too is now trying to fight off sleep and I know it is time for us to go. 

“All right well I think it is time for me to take this drunken mess back to his room,” I say standing from my chair. 

“Probably a good idea, he will need to rest up for tomorrow. We need to make sure he has all of his manners for the Royal family,” she responds, some anger and mockery coming into her voice at the last part of her statement. 

I chuckled lightly as I walk over and kneel in front of Robb and nudge him into a state of barely awareness. I maneuver myself beside him and pull him up as he puts all his weight around my shoulder.

I wince at the additional weight, my leg not appreciating the additional strain. 

Daenerys seems to notice as she looks at me with pity. 

Weak and scared flash through my mind again but I shove them aside. 

“I wish he was as lightweight as his alcohol tolerance is,” I force out, earning a laugh from the now dark-haired girl in front of me. 

She walks forward and opens the door. 

“Good night Jon,” she says softly as I pass through the open door, her eyes following me as I walk out. 

I walk into the hallway and turn back to her. 

“Good night Dany.” 

“Night...” Robb’s sleepy form murmurs which causes us both to chuckle and I start my short trek down the hall as I hear the door shut behind me. 

This isn’t the first time I have had to do this, luckily the distance is a lot shorter this time. 

I open the door and let Robb slump onto the bed face down.

After a little more maneuvering Robb is all comfy cozy passed out on his bed. I pull the door shut behind me and begin my trek across the castle to my room. 

I can feel myself wavering on my feet and I know that I will most likely be asleep before I hit my pillow. 

Tomorrow brings a lot of strangers and a lot of possibilities. 

Not all of which are good. 

I let out a sigh as I finally arrive at my room and collapse onto my bed, not bothering to get under the thin covers on my bed.

I feel a slight pain at the impact but it is soon masked as sleep immediately takes hold over my body and I cross over into the black abyss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Catelyn is not like this in the original story and I am not saying she is, but in my story this is how I want her character to be, for now. I'm sorry if you do not agree or if you do not like it! 
> 
> Let me know how I did and I will answer any questions you guys leave in the comments!


	10. The Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Royal Family arrives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope Everybody is staying safe out there! 
> 
> Quick Disclaimer: I will not be posting a chapter next week as I am going to be out of town and will not have a wifi connection so the next chapter will be posted in two weeks! thanks you for understanding.

**Robb POV**

Everyone in the courtyard is buzzing. 

The excitement level is high. 

And the feeling of anticipation is palpable. 

I had been with Father going over what we had gone over last night when Bran had come running up to us, telling us that the Royal family’s arrival was imminent. 

Ever since I had woken up face down and groggy this morning it has been all go all the time around the castle, which I was very happy about because it kept my hangover headache at bay. 

I’m not entirely sure how I got to my room but I assume Jon drug me back. 

Which honestly surprised me. 

Jon had looked exhausted even before we went up to Dany’s room. I may have given him a hard time about being tired after one drink but it was obvious just based on looking at him how tired he was. 

That is probably the only reason why we were able to get Jon as flustered and out of sorts last night when we asked him about his lack of eating. 

That conversation was not far from the front of my mind but I was choosing not to put my attention on that right now. 

Same reason why I am pushing the question of how Jon obtained his masterful skill to the side as well. Although the fact that I found my brother/best friend in the middle of the night in a courtyard lit only by a small lantern striking a dummy with such power and precision that I would think only possible in the daylight is a good clue. 

I shake my thoughts from my head. 

In a matter of minutes I will be faced with the King. I can’t be thinking about the growing list of things I am only now noticing about Jon. 

I am excited to see the King in person instead of the image I had conjured up from all the stories. No doubt he would not be what all the stories hyped him up to be but I am still curious. 

As I think that I see Father reach down and remove a soldier's helmet from Arya’s head. The pout on her lips brings a smile to my face. 

It always seems like outside of Jon, Arya is the most like me out of all my siblings. 

Although she is definitely more wild and uncontrollable than I ever have been. She got a heavy Stark influence in her while I got a heavier dose of Tully to counteract it. 

I am broken out of my thoughts as I see the front of the royal party come through the gates and everyone immediately stiffens and stands up straighter. 

Myself included. 

A few guards trickle in first followed by a man with a big helmet on in the shape of a dog which is obviously the Hound. I have always heard how big he is and how brutal he looks but based on size alone. But looking at him now, he is significantly smaller than the huge Wildling in the woods. 

Riding in front of the Hound is the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon, who has the same smug look and air about him that I expected. 

He has a weird tempting smile on his face as he looks directly at Sansa and only Sansa. Nobody else. 

Immediately the want to punch him becomes a possibility I am considering.

Strongly. 

The way Joffrey is looking over my sister like she is some piece of meat to purchase he can purchase makes my protective instincts flare up. 

I look over at Sansa who is right beside me and I am expecting her to have a swooned, dreamy or pleased look on her face. Like all he needs to do is walk and she will love him just based off of that and how he looks. The prince is all she had seemed to talk about these past few weeks. 

But instead of the look I am expecting, her eyes are looking at the Prince with a curious and skeptical gaze. Like she is trying to decide on something. I feel a small amount of comfort at my sister’s skeptical look. 

It had been a fear of mine for a while that my sister lived too much in her songs and stories to be ready for the actual world that the Royal Family had brought with them. 

After Joffrey settles his horse in a place not too far away, still looking at Sansa in the exact same possessive way, a carriage pulls in behind them that is no doubtedly holding the Queen and her two other children. 

And from behind the carriage I can see a man on top of a horse with thick black hair and a big and slightly graying beard under his chin with a big crown on his head. 

_Robert Baratheon._

He looks a lot like the stories describe him.

There is just one main difference. 

He is fat. 

I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could outweigh a bear. 

I feel a little bad for the horse honestly. 

Before my thoughts can continue everyone, following Father’s lead, kneels. 

I keep my eyes down listening to the King’s grunt and then his heavy footsteps as he makes his way over towards us until he stops in front of Father. 

I hear shuffling and out of my peripheral vision I see Father stand in front of his long time friend. 

“You’ve gotten fat.” 

The statement is blunt and surprises me. 

_Your one to talk._

Before I can raise my eyes the two of them bust out laughing and quickly embrace in a brotherly hug. 

I feel Mother stand beside me so I quickly follow her lead and bring myself back to my feet. 

After disengaging with Father, the King quickly steps up to my mother. 

“Cat!” he says happily before throwing his arms around her ignoring her attempt at a curtsy right before petting Rickon on the head like I do my wolf. 

“9 years, why haven’t I seen you? Where have you been?” the King asks. 

“Guarding the North for you, Your Grace,” Father says with affection. 

I feel my heart start to race slightly as he moves over and stands in front of me.

I try to keep my face neutral. 

No matter my first impressions, this is still the king. 

“You must be Robb,” he says with an excited tone. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” I respond. 

Instead of keeping on walking down the line like I thought he would he stops directly in front of me with a big grin. 

_Why is he smiling at me so big?_

“You were the one that took down that patch of Wildlings a couple of weeks ago. What was it like?” he says excitedly as my stomach drops a little bit. 

It is still a little weird and abstract to me that everyone only gives me credit for that. It has been pretty much all I heard these last two weeks outside the Royal Visit and never once did Jon’s name come up. 

I look to my left to see Father giving me an expecting look and my Mother with a huge proud smile on her face. 

I look back at the King who is still smiling and I know what I should say, but I can’t find myself to intentionally leave Jon out again. 

My brain won’t let me. 

But I know I have too. 

“Yes Your Grace it was a tremendous experience,” I force out and he smiles back at me. 

“So you're good with a sword then?” he says as he laughs, looking at me for an answer. 

“I like to think so Your Grace,” I say with a smirk drawing a laugh from him. “Though I am still only the third best in Winterfell.” 

I know I shouldn’t have said it, but my true thoughts slipped out before I could stop myself. 

“Third huh?” the King asks as I glance over at Father who looks just as confused as the King does. 

“Yes Your Grace” I say confidently. 

“Who beats you?” 

“My father for one,” I start but am interrupted. 

“Your old and slow father still beats you?” he asks with a smile, glancing over at the man in question. 

“Even on his bad days,” I say with a laugh which is matched by the King’s. 

“And who else?” 

I can basically hear Jon screaming in my head to not say what I am about to but I can’t back out now. 

“My brother Your Grace,” I say with the same confidence as before. 

“Your brother?” the King says even more confused looking down the line of Starks to my right landing on Bran at the end. 

“Apologies Your Grace, I was referring to my half-brother.”

He looks back at me with a smirk on his face. 

“Your half-brother...the bastard?” he questions and I have to quickly squash the anger at the title. 

“Yes Your Grace.”

“Which one is he?” he asks, gesturing behind me. 

I turn and look at Jon who is standing as calm and cool and collected as always. 

“The black haired emotionless one back there,” I say gesturing towards him. 

He takes a second to examine Jon before talking. 

“This true?” he asks Jon, half joking half serious. 

Jon looks at me before glancing over at Father who I see give a tiny nod. 

“He exaggerates Your Grace,” Jon says simply and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“Does he now?” the King asks looking back at me and I stifle another eye roll.  
“No I don’t, when he goes 100% he puts me in the dirt every time.” 

The comment makes Robert laugh and he starts to move further down the line but not without having the last word. 

“Well, I look forward to seeing you two spar while I’m here then,” he says and I nod at him in confirmation before he moves on to Sansa. 

I don’t really listen to the rest of his conversations as I start to prepare myself for the anger of Jon, which will certainly come at the first opportunity. 

My mind doesn’t come back to the people in front of me until I see the Queen walking over with her twin brother guarding the two other Royal children near the carriage. Based on the scared but somewhat excited looks on their faces, they seem like nice normal children. 

Unlike their brother. 

I see the Queen reach out her hand and Father graciously takes it and kisses her knuckles echoed by my Mother’s curtsy as is necessary when greeting Royalty both muttering the proper “My Queen.”

“Take me to your crypt, I want to pay my respects,” the King orders, grabbing my attention. 

“We have been riding for a month my love, surely the dead can wait,” the Queen says with a small amount of anger in her tone. 

The King glances at his wife before ignoring her and turning toward the direction of the crypt calling Father after him who follows quickly after his King. 

Once the King and Father disappear down the stairs everything starts to move really fast as all the servants move to help where they have been assigned and I see each of my siblings move to where they were needed. Mostly leading the Royal family to their designated rooms. 

I make a point of looking towards where I know Dany had been standing. 

I am still not exactly sure why she had to be out here at all, I mean it does not really make any sense but Father had insisted on it. 

Before she moves very far we meet eyes and she gives me a smile of approval before looking to the ground and I watch as she disappears into the hallway that leads back up to our rooms. 

_Good. Out of sight. Out of mind._  
I move towards the Great Hall as Father had told me he wanted me simply roaming and helping out where and when I could but for the most part helping delegate things around the castle. 

I had been overjoyed at the decision as Mother originally wanted to stick me with leading Joffrey to his room, who I knew I would hate without even meeting him. 

I am not sure I could keep a pleasant charm after just seeing him, let alone trying to complete stupid pointless forced small talk with him. 

That responsibility had been given to Jory instead. 

I walk around for a couple hours running from this place to that place helping out where I can until I finally see another member of my family again. 

And it is just the person I want to talk to. 

“Jon!” I call as he turns the corner but he quickly backtracks and turns to face me. 

The lack of anger on his face when we lock eyes surprises me. 

We meet in the middle of the hallway that is not busy but is not empty either. 

“How is it going?” I ask him. 

“Busy,” he responds. “Running around doing this and that.” 

I look around and see people around so I pull him into an empty room and close the door. 

“I’m sorry about before, about putting you on the spot like that…”

“No it’s just you shouldn’t have lied to everyone.” 

His response was not what I was expecting. 

_Lie?_

“Lie? Lie! I didn’t lie about anything,” I stammer out in surprise. 

“Robb you are better than me, you always have been,” he says. 

“Bullshit! If you said that 3 days ago I would have believed you but after yesterday, and the Wildling thing, there is no doubt in my mind you are leaps and bounds better than me. You killed 4 Wildlings on your own while I struggled to keep my feet against just one!” I say sternly and I see Jon crumple a little bit. 

“Look I do not know why you have hidden how good you are from me for so long and that is not a conversation we are going to have right now, though we are going to have it, what I need to say now is that in our spars while everyone is here, you now need to beat me, no more of the letting me win bullshit.” 

Jon looks petrified at the notion. 

Not just scared or frightened. 

Petrified. 

“No,” he says softly and sternly at the same time.

“Yes,” I say back just as strongly. 

“No.” 

Yes.” 

“No.” 

“Jon at this point if you don’t beat me, it just makes me look like an idiot.” 

“No it makes you look humble,” he says desperately trying to convince me but it does not seem like he even believes it himself. 

_Why is he so terrified of winning? No person can be this afraid of attention._

“No it doesn’t and you know that as much as I do. I need you to do this for me,” I plead and I see the tug of war going on on his face. 

When he still doesn’t respond I speak again. 

“Come on, what is the worst that could happen? I get dirty? I get a bruise? There is nothing that you can do to me in the yard that would be worse than what the Wildlings did to both of us.” 

He still looks hesitant but now has a more resigned look on his face. 

“Fine, but only if you make sure it is okay first,” he says slowly and hesitantly. 

Like he is afraid to say the wrong thing. 

“Make sure it is okay? What do you mean?” I ask confused. 

“Just check with Lord and Lady Stark to make sure that that is okay. I don’t want to get in trouble for beating you for what to them is the first time, right when the Royal Family gets here.” 

_Get in trouble?_

“Jon, there is no way either of them would punish you just because you are better than me at something,” I say as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. 

Which it is. 

But Jon gets a hidden look on his face.

Like he knows something I don’t but is not going to tell me. 

_That is true isn’t it?_

But just as quickly as it appears, it disappears again. 

“Just check, please?” he says. 

“Fine,” I say, having no intention of actually asking them such a nonsense question. 

“Thanks. We should get back to it, I’ll see you later,” Jon says as he moves towards and out the door. 

“See you later,” I say quietly as the door shuts. 

I enjoy the tranquility of the quiet room for a few moments. Enjoying the empty space away from all the hustling people. 

I typically like being around people. 

They are fun and seem to give me energy. 

But there are almost too many people here, which is something that I never thought I would say. 

I exit the room, pulling the thick door shut behind me with a heavy bang and move towards the Great Hall to see if there is anyone who needs my help before I go and change into what has been picked out for me to wear tonight. 

When I enter the Great Hall, I see Mother bustling about the room until she spots me and waves me over to her. 

“Robb,” she says relieved. 

“I have been wanting to talk to you, where did you run off to?” she asks with her usual light motherly tone in her voice. 

Her voice that is sincere, joking and scolding you all at once. 

“I was chatting with Jon,” I say nonchalantly and I see the same twitch of anger that she always seems to get at the mention of my brother. 

“Why were you talking with him?” she says as her light tone now holds her forced pleasant voice, as opposed to her genuine one. 

It was something she had passed onto Sansa and myself, so it was easy for me to hear. 

“I wanted to talk to him about the arrival this morning,” I say just as nonchalantly as before, not giving any indication I heard the change in tone. 

“Yes I wanted to talk to you about that, why on earth would you tell such a blatant lie to the King of all people? That could be construed as treason.” 

_Blatant lie?_

Her voice and facial expressions are portraying nothing but sincere curiosity.

Like she actually fully believes that everything she just said was the absolute truth. 

“It isn’t a lie,” I say back to her and she is taken aback by my response. 

Like it offended her personally. 

“How did you get that idea? Every time I have watched you two, you have always beat him. Always. Just like you are supposed to.”

_Suppose to?_

My confusion at those two words must have shown as I see slight regret at the words. 

“He fakes that. Has been faking that our entire life apparently. Lets me win, which I should actually be more mad at him for. It is extremely selfish in a way if you think about it.” 

“How do you know he fakes?” she asks with a suspicious, searching voice. 

“Well you were there for part of the spar yesterday. You saw him, he had me on the run the entire time. I couldn’t have stayed with him much longer than I did. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could give Father a good match. Jon had as much power behind his strikes as Father does and Jon might be a little faster than he is now.”

“Maybe you were just having a bad day,” Mother offers in a much more overtly obvious use of her forced pleasant voice. 

Like she is really trying to keep up a mirage.

I again don’t address her now blatantly obvious tone and continue the conversation in a perceived unobservant manner.

“No that’s not it. He is still ailing from his injuries for that to be a factor. It’s hard to explain exactly what the differences are without you seeing them or without knowing what to look for but I just know, I realized it two days ago. It was glaringly obvious. I’m pretty sure the only reason I didn’t see it before was because I had nothing to compare it against. After the Wildlings thing though, it was very easy to see the difference. But he refused to tell me why he hid how good, like he was afraid of telling me or something but I’ll get the answer out of him eventually. In chatting with Dany she noticed the same thing I did and she hasn’t ever picked up a sword before...” 

“No!” 

The word comes out short and sharp cutting me off. 

The word is filled with more hate and anger than I have ever heard her use before. 

She seems to realize her tone and attempts to cover for it but the memory is already implanted in my mind. 

“I mean, there is no way he could be better than you Robb,” she says with an outpouring of affection stepping back closer to me but it feels even more fake and forced now and I am more convinced now that there is some mirage about her that I am not seeing.

Something she is hiding. 

She hates Jon. 

She has always done her best to not see him or talk about him if she can help it. 

And we have been talking about Jon for way too long for her to be genuinely interested.

_There is something in this for her. Something tying her to this._

But I do not voice any of my thoughts. I keep my face as neutral as possible and play along anyway. Keeping up my perceived unobservance wanting to hear her answer to the only question that could follow a blunt statement like that. 

“How is there no way?” I ask her. 

She rolls her eyes as if it is obvious before starting to talk.

“Because he is a…” she starts to say with malice and anger ingrained naturally into her voice. 

But she quickly catches herself before she finishes her sentence but the word hangs between us. 

_Bastard._

I have always noticed the different way Mother treated me and Jon from a very young age. Anyone could see that. A blind person could see that. 

But her outward displays of that difference had dwindled drastically over the years and it seemed to me that she had grown to live with the situation. 

I mean she never treated him anywhere close to how she treats me and my siblings, and his room is still on the opposite side of the castle from us, but I had assumed that she had moved past it and saw Jon how she sees Theon. 

A bit of a nuisance but tolerable. 

But the natural deep anger in her voice made me think I had become blind to the depths of her anger as well.

She has never shown any outward resentment for him in a long time. 

At least none that I could see. 

None that I had ever heard about either. 

And if Arya saw something I know she would have screamed about it from the rooftops. That was the consequence of Jon being Arya’s favorite brother.

But the natural deep anger in her voice that had come out in this conversation reminded me of the hatred she must still carry for Jon. 

The hatred she has hidden away. 

I shake my head of my thoughts and she is still looking up at me with the guilt filled eyes. 

But not even the kind of guilt that screamed she regrets what she said, or almost said. But the guilty look that said she was sorry I had to experience it. 

“I need to get ready for tonight,” I say almost on instinct and move towards the direction of my room. 

I believe I hear her calling after me but I ignore her and keep walking. 

Her words keep rattling around in my head but more the tone of her voice is what my brain has latched onto. 

A tone of deep anger and resentment. 

A tone I had never heard before in my life. Not even when she was _extremely_ mad at me. 

A tone she has never used and yet her voice fell into it so easily. 

Like it was common for her to use that exact tone. 

_But if it is so common, why have I never heard it._

If what I got was just a glimpse of the anger that could be simmering under the surface, how much of that same anger and hatred stirred within her without any of us realizing it.

Without me realizing it. 

I had told Jon that neither of my parents would ever hurt him for just being better than me at something. 

But now Jon’s reaction to that exact statement coupled with this whole new angry side of my mom I hadn’t seen before. It had me thinking that that was not necessarily true. 

And just the thought that I am not immediately dismissing the idea that my mother could be hurting my brother is what scares me most. 

* * *

**Sansa POV**

The feast is in full swing all around me. 

This is not the first feast we have had here, but this is definitely the biggest I have ever been to. 

And loudest. 

And most extravagant.

And hottest. 

And a lot of other things. 

The music fills the hall as a huge cacophony of people are jumping and dancing around in the middle of the hall. 

The King is the biggest and loudest participant as he enjoys the attention of a kitchen wench. 

Jeyne Poole is sitting right next to me, wide eyed and a huge grin on her face. 

I am choosing to just simply watch everything that is going on. Trying to get a gage on everything and get comfortable. 

Arya is sitting near us, looking around like she would rather be anywhere else. 

Rickon has already gone to bed but Bran was sitting and talking animatedly at the end of the table with Tommen and Myrcella. All of them with big smiles on their faces. 

I couldn’t spot Jon anywhere in the hall when I had looked briefly but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even show up. 

He never seemed to be fond of crowds. 

I didn’t look very hard either. 

Robb is the one who is surprising me most. 

I expected him to up dancing and talking and doing all the things that make him the outgoing people person that he is. 

But instead he seems lost inside his own head. He had been that way ever since showing up to help lead the royal family into the Great Hall earlier tonight. 

And based on the way he had blatantly ignored Mother twice when she tried to talk to him, I assume it has something to do with that but I have no idea what about. 

After a couple of minutes of careful gazing, my eyes land on what could be my intended. 

Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon. 

He is definitely handsome. 

Anyone can see that. His description could be pulled right out of all the stories I’ve read since I knew what reading was. 

I should be enamored by him. 

By his looks. 

By his title. 

By the idea that if I marry him I would be his queen. 

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. 

I know just a couple days ago I would’ve been. But the conversation I had with Dany continues to float around in my mind. 

_When he gets here, meet him, talk to him, watch how he interacts with everybody around him, look into his eyes and see what emotion is looking back at you when he looks at you, and decide then the kind of person he is. Only when you are able to see the whole picture. And hopefully he is everything your dreams can dream up. But don’t decide that that is true just because you want it to be true._

No one had ever said anything like that to me before. 

The quote I have heard from my mother thousands of times before, “Don’t judge a book by it’s cover,” had never applied like it did right now. 

Based on the cover, I should already be in love with Joffrey already. 

He fits the princely bill. 

Handsome. 

Gentleman. 

Charming. 

These were all things he had shown to me in our short interactions today. 

I know I should see him that way. My mother obviously wants me too based on the way she went on and on about him as she was doing my hair and I patiently listened. 

But there is just something about him. 

I can’t place it but it leaves me with a sick feeling in my stomach. 

I keep saying to myself over and over that it is just nerves, that he is everything I ever dreamed of. 

But it feels like a lie. 

But I keep saying it to myself anyway because I have no choice. We are most likely going to be married so I need to convince myself of what I know is true. 

Which is that I am happy that a prince would even think about wanting to marry me. 

But then his eyes connect with mine and he gives me what I assume is supposed to be a charming grin but instantly the same pit forms in my stomach and I quickly look away. 

My quick movement makes my legs knock with Jeyne and her focus switches from the feast back to me. 

“Looks like you have an admirer,” she says with a huge grin on her face. 

I try to sneak a look back over to where he is sitting and he is still staring over at us with the same intense look and grin on his face which only serves to deepen the pit in my stomach and I turn back to Jeyne. 

Jeyne giggles at my reaction equating it to nervousness. 

Which it is. 

In a way. 

But not the kind she thinks and definitely not the kind I had thought I would feel after months of anticipating this boy's arrival. 

“Nervous?” she asks. 

“Just a little antsy,” I say back to her trying to avoid too many questions. 

“Maybe you should get up and walk around a little, we have been sitting for a long time.” 

I nod my head in agreement before standing and walking towards the end of the table. I see Mother sitting with the Queen and she had told me beforehand to make sure and personally introduce myself to the Queen personally and now is as good of a time as any. 

I feel a good nervousness as I approach the queen as the prospect of speaking to the most powerful woman in the world suddenly hits me. 

I feel a big smile spread across my cheeks as I wordlessly step in front of my mother and her. 

She looks at me appraisingly before giving me a small smile. 

“Aren’t you a pretty one,” she says. 

“Thank you, your grace,” I respond. 

“Your red little flower, has it bloomed yet?” 

Of all the second questions for her to ask, this was not one I was expecting and it did not seem appropriate but as I glance at mother she doesn’t object to the question so I swallow my discomfort like she taught me to do and answered. 

“No your grace,” I say softly. 

“And your cloak did you make it?” She asks not skipping a beat. 

“Yes, your grace,” I say enthusiastically as I had loved the way this cloak had turned out and was very excited that it had been completed in time for the Royal Family’s survival. 

“You have quite a talent with a needle. You must make something for me,” she says politely and I can feel myself blush at the compliment. 

“It would be an honor, your grace,” I say while I curtsy and begin to walk away. 

I walk to the side, intending to simply walk around the room a bit before returning to Jeyne for the rest of the evening. 

I am about halfway across the room when I feel someone grab my arm which makes me jump in surprise. 

I luckily manage to swallow the unladylike screech that threatens to come out of my mouth but the shock I’m sure is still on my face as I turn to see two striking green eyes look at me. 

They are objectively handsome. 

Just like the rest of him. 

“I’m sorry my lady, I did not wish to frighten you,” his charming voice said. 

I feel another blush bloom on my face at how close he is to me. 

“My apologies, my prince, I do not wish to seem easily frightened,” I say to him in a timid voice and he smiles at me again. 

“Would you like to dance my lady,” he says extending his arm. 

I don’t need to look around to know that everyone is looking at us and I know that I cannot say no despite the pit growing in my stomach screaming at me to do just that. 

I swallow my discomfort, not allowing any sign of my it showing. 

“It would be an honor my prince,” I say as I slip my arm in his and he leads me to the dance floor. 

We get close enough to the center to be surrounded but not so close as to still have a little room to ourselves. 

A slower song starts to play as we come to a stop and I place my hands on his sides, just allowing them to stay there,like I have the hundreds of times I have practiced with Jeyne and he reciprocates by moving his around me and putting them in the middle of my back. 

A little more intimate than I was expecting, but I swallow the discomfort that comes with the move as we begin to sway easily for a couple seconds before he speaks again. 

“I hear we could be married someday,” he says it like it is a natural occurrence. 

“I hear the same my prince,” I say in what I hope is a sweet voice. 

“How do you feel about that?”

_Horrible._

My own first thought surprises me and luckily I don’t say it out loud. 

“It would be an absolute honor my prince. Something I have been dreaming about since I was a little girl.” 

That is true, but just a little less true right now. 

At my words his hands slide down lower to the small of my back. 

Where in the middle of my back his hands had felt weird but tolerable, now were uncomfortable. 

_Swallow my discomfort._

“How are you finding the North my prince?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything. 

“It is very ...open,” he says but I can tell that was not what he was thinking. 

“Have you ever traveled down south my lady,” he asked with a smile. 

I feel a genuine smile form on my face at the question. 

“No my father has never allowed us to travel outside the North but I hear it is beautiful. With the big beautiful castles, the flowers blooming in the garden, and the big beautiful blue seas, I can’t wait to see it all.” 

His voice breaks me out of my daydream. 

“Hopefully I will be able to take you to see them myself,” he says and I look back at him. 

He slowly moves his hands lower to the very base of my back, just inches away from what I know for sure is inappropriate and where they are now is definitely not proper to begin with. 

The pit is growing bigger in my stomach, flaring up to a size bigger than it has ever been. 

_Swallow discomfort._

I need to learn how to get used to this as he is right, we are going to be married and I don't want to almost vomit everytime he touches me. 

I need to love him like a proper wife should and give him sons and daughters and always do as I’m told. 

But as I look back up and into his eyes the pit consumes my entire stomach. 

I don’t know how much longer I am going to be able keep my discomfort off my face. 

And as he continues to look at me with the same off putting stare he has worn since he arrived it finally hits me. 

_It’s his eyes._

That is what is so unsettling. 

His eyes are looking at me very similarly to how I’ve seen Robb and Bran stare at their food sometimes. 

Like the food is theirs and no one else’s and they cannot wait to just dive in but are only waiting because they have too. 

But as soon they don’t have to wait anymore…

I feel his fingers adjust on my back and immediately they feel like fire in my skin and I know I need to leave. 

Right now. 

To regroup and get back to the place I need to be. Back to being the good proper girl who is going to marry the prince happily. 

Before I make a scene of leaving I step back from him a little bit to gain some separation but he steps with me, not allowing me out of his grasp which serves to further my discomfort. 

“If you would excuse me my prince,” I start as I struggle to keep my voice the same. “I am feeling tired and wish to return to my chambers.” 

He smirks at me like he knows something I don’t. 

“Of course. Allow me to accompany you,” he says as a statement not a question but I need to get away from him now! 

“Don’t trouble yourself my prince…” I start but he cuts me off. 

“It will be my genuine pleasure,” he says and he quirks an eyebrow at me and I know refusal will only be taken as an insult. 

Which will only lead to things getting worse. 

So I force myself to shake my head yes and I take his outstretched arm once again and start our trek towards my room. 

His touch on my arm still burning with uncomfortability.

What I really want is to do is go and see Dany, be able to just say what I have kept inside all day out loud to someone who I know will hear me for me and won’t judge me like everyone else will. 

She had opened my eyes to reality when everyone else saw they were closed and left them that way. 

I owe her a lot. 

I lead the way as he has no idea where he is going and eventually we arrive at our hallway and I feel a small spark of happiness grow at the prospect of being away from him. 

His touch on my arm is still almost burning itself into my skin.

“This one is me, my prince,” I say as we get to my door. 

The fact that a Targaryen is just on the other side of the wall behind the Baratheon Crown Prince is not lost on me. 

I will wait long enough until I know he is gone to go and see Dany. 

But just as I think that he stops and pushes me into the wall, trapping me between himself and the wall. 

Fear tenses my body as without any hesitation he brings his lips crashing down on mine. 

I don’t move. 

I freeze. 

Too scared and surprised to do anything. 

Each spot along my lips that he connects with feels disgusting. 

After a few seconds my brain finally comes back on and decides to actually do something as I shove him off of me. 

He is clearly surprised at my movement and rejection and I see anger flash across his face before his smile widens. 

I rack my brain for something to say. 

Something to deter him. 

But not much is coming to mind.

“That was not proper, my prince,” I force out. 

My voice is shaky at best, which only serves to widen his smile as he steps back close to me and I mirror with a step back of my own. 

“We are going to be married, what is the difference?” he asks, the smug grin on his face making me want to vomit. 

“We must wait,” I try to say with confidence but he only steps forward again and my step back this time has me crashing into the all again. 

“Why must we wait?” 

“”We must be married before we can…” I trail off not even being able to suggest what he is talking about without bile rising in my throat. 

“I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” he says as he forces himself back into my personal space, just six inches left between us.

“We cannot,” I insist again but he doesn’t seem to care and the fear that there is nothing I can do to stop him grows in me. 

Threatens to consume.

“I am the prince. I can do whatever I want,” he says as he brings his arms above me to trap me in an extremely confined space. 

“Even princes answer to the gods my prince,” I force out but my fear has taken over again and I start to resign myself to there is nothing I can do. 

His hands that had been above me now start to travel down as he captures my non-moving lips again, undeterred by my warning, and his hands move to my neck then down lower and squeeze my breasts. 

That is what wakes me up again and I shove him off again. 

His face instead of smug, this time goes to a frightening level of anger.

It is like the Prince I was introduced to is gone and an angry demon stands in his place. 

Eyes fiery and his entire demeanor down like his read to launch himself at me. 

“You will not deny me! I am the prince! I can do whatever I want! If you will not behave like you are supposed to, then I will bring two guards up here to hold you down!” 

Each sentence he gets more angry and he gets closer again but I use all the muscle I have to try and keep him off of me but soon he grabs my arm and throws me to the stone floor. 

I feel pain radiate from where I landed on my right hip but the pain is forgotten as my attention is quickly drawn to behind me as I feel my skirt being pulled up my legs and I kick but he simply laughs at me maniacally and continues to try and pull my skirts up against my kicking legs. 

His laugh is going to follow me forever as it is now ingrained into my memory. 

My skirts are just reaching my mid thigh when a deep threatening gravelly voice comes from behind me. 

“Sansa?” 

I look up and see Jon standing at the entrance to the hallway. 

His face set in a stormy look. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first attempt at a small cliff hanger! 
> 
> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Thank you for reading,


	11. The Hallway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon finds something unexpected on his way to visit Dany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient! 
> 
> Here is the next chapter, I hope you all like it! 
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and sound during these crazy times.

**Jon POV**

I hear the big heavy door that leads to the back entrance of the Great Hall close behind the dwarf of Casterly Rock and I stop my barrage of hits against the dummy and let out a deep breath to calm myself down. 

I turn and see the empty courtyard around me and I am able to feel a little bit more at peace. 

I am able to forget momentarily about the party that I am forbidden to attend that is happening behind closed doors less than 100 feet away.   
The room that both Tyrion Lannister and Uncle Benjen both have disappeared into. 

_Uncle Benjen._

The wall comes into my mind. 

I have always dreamt of going to the Wall and joining the ancient tradition that is the Nights Watch. 

A place to get away from all that followed me here. 

A place to get away from being a bastard amongst nobles. 

A place that is away from the torment and prying eyes of Lady Stark. 

It was the thing that I kept at the forefront of my mind and the thing that kept me looking ahead when I needed to most. It was definitely something I had thought about every day. 

But it wasn’t until just now that I had realized it has been the last thing on my mind these past couple weeks. The thing that I always thought about has been literally an afterthought for weeks. 

And even now when I am thinking about it, I do not feel the same pull and longing towards the Wall that I once did. 

_Why? What had changed?_

The hardest part of going to the wall I thought would always be saying goodbye to my siblings. 

To Bran. 

To Arya. 

To Robb. 

And most likely never seeing them again. 

But I had come to terms with that. 

And it is not like I have much of a choice whether I want to go or not, Lady Stark is going to kick me out at the _very_ first opportunity she can find. The only reason she has _tolerated_ me this long was because of Lord Stark’s refusal to send me away.

Why was it that the thought of leaving Winterfell now seems worse? 

Like it is more a betrayal. 

_Dany._

I let out a sigh as the girl who has tormented more and more of my thoughts pops back into my mind after finally leaving for a few minutes. 

I know I see her differently than I see any of my siblings. That has been obvious since I first saw her. 

_Very different._

But after spending two weeks in my room wanting nothing but to see her come walking through the door. I don’t know if I am ready to walk away from her forever. 

And the other thing is, when I think back to what both me and Robb went through two weeks ago, if I had been at the Wall instead of being here, I would not have been there to protect Robb. 

Robb might have died. 

That is something that has always been particularly important to me. 

Protecting my family. 

Protecting the people that I care about the most. 

I can’t do that from the Wall. 

That, honestly, is the biggest reason I have stayed up for hours into the night swinging at a dummy with no light to see anything but the dummy in front of me. 

The thought that always weighed on my brain the heaviest was if something happened to my family, and I could have stopped it but I was just simply not skilled enough to, then it is my fault for letting it happen. 

The other side of this is I’m not sure that I will be allowed to protect them here in Winterfell, even if I didn’t want to go to the Wall.

_Maybe Robb will let me stay if I ask._

But I don’t want to put him in that position. His mom wanting one thing, his brother wanting another. 

Maybe it would just be easier if I left. 

I take another swing at the dummy and I feel a shot of pain shoot up into my ribs and a grimace forms on my face. 

I can very much still feel the pain in my leg and in my chest, but it is no longer affecting me nearly as much. The only pain I feel that is anything more than a nuisance are small flare ups like that one in my chest. But for the most part, there is just slight discomfort at this point more than pain. I decided this morning that I was done limping. 

With the Royal Family here, the less attention I could draw to myself, the better. But Robb certainly did not help in that effort with outing me to the King himself. 

The look on Lady Stark’s face when they were all turned and looked at me certainly meant that I was going to avoid her as much as possible and hope she forgot about it. 

_Extremely unlikely._

She hasn’t forgotten anything up to this point, why start now?

And who knows what I am going to go through because of it. 

I take one last swing at the dummy and let out a content sigh as the normal amount of fatigue has spread through my arms and legs. 

I had made a deal with myself that once I worked out, I would be able to go up and see Dany. 

She had gone straight to her room after the ceremony this morning and I doubt had left since, so I wanted to go and see her for a little bit. 

A smile formed on my face as I put the dummy away in the closet and start my walk towards the Stark bedrooms. 

I can feel my heart start to race against my wishes as a warm fuzzy feeling spreads through my stomach against my will at just the _idea_ of seeing Dany. 

But just as quickly as the feeling fills me it leaves as a pained screech fills the hallway. 

Sound travels far in these halls, but I have a good guess as to where that sound is coming from.

“That sounds like Sansa,” I think urgently as my leisurely walk turns into a run immediately as I head directly in the direction of the bedrooms where I believe the sound came from.

I wasn’t too far away when the screech was bellowed and I turned into the hallway within seconds. 

The sight before me is nauseating. 

Sansa is on the ground kicking in duress as the Prince stands above her pulling skirts higher and higher. 

I take a nanosecond to calm myself because my initial reaction is to take Joffrey by the collar and bash his head into the wall until he is no longer breathing. 

But I can’t do that to the Prince. 

That does not mean however that the idea isn’t showing all over my face. 

“Sansa,” I say urgently. 

Both look up at me finally becoming aware of my presence. 

Sansa has a terrified and pleading look on her face. I can see the beg for help in her eyes and I know I am not leaving without being sure Sansa is safe. 

I steal a look at Joffrey and he has an absolutely livid expression. He looks like a kid who had his toy stolen from him. 

His look only serves to deepen my anger. 

“GET LOST BASTARD!”

* * *

**Sansa POV**

“GET LOST BASTARD!”

I squeeze my eyes closed as Joffrey’s screech is high and almost is unintelligible. 

Joffrey immediately goes back to trying to hike my skirts up but before I can think to kick him off or look back at Jon for help, Joffrey’s foul presence leaves my personal space and I hear a thump a few feet away. 

I open my eyes slowly and standing above me is Jon with an angry look on his face and I am being hauled to my feet before my brain even computes that I am moving. 

I can’t think. 

I can’t move. 

I just stare ahead, my brain not taking in anything. 

As I blankly look around, I see Jon talking to me and my ears finally clue in. 

“Hey, hey hey. Sansa look at me. Are you injured? Are you hurt?” 

I shake my head no, unable to speak or do anything else. 

He nods. 

“I know this is hard but I need you to stay with me here, all I need you to do is stay behind me, can you do that?” 

I immediately shake my head yes, wanting nothing more than for everything in the world to be between me and Joffrey. 

Jon opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by Joffrey. 

“Bastard! You will hang for that!” Joffrey yells and Jon turns to face him and I immediately instinctively place myself directly behind Jon as he told me to. Jon reaches behind him and places a hand on my arm, I assume so he knows where I am. 

“My prince…” Jon starts but Joffrey cuts him off. 

“No bastard! We were having a conversation when you pushed me and injured me for no reason! None of this concerns you! If you want to live you will leave right now!”

All of what I have been taught all my life tells me that Jon will leave right now because bastards are selfish people. 

It is a fact. 

But Jon doesn’t leave. 

Instead Jon stands true, not moving a morsel. 

_Why is he not leaving? Why is he doing this for me?_

“My prince, my lord brother asked me to retrieve my sister Lady Sansa as it is a full moon out tonight, and he knows how much she loves the fully lit night sky full of stars.”

 _Stars?_

I fight hard to not show my surprise at Jon’s explanation because me and Robb have never talked about anything like that before. But right now I have no choice but to trust Jon. 

My half-brother that I have treated like dirt my entire life. 

“You can tell your brother that she is busy and has no interest in joining him right now.” 

Joffrey is now forming complete sentences without ear shattering screeches which is good but his eyes are still blazing. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Jon says simply. 

“You will do as I command, bastard,” Joffrey responds, anger working its way back into his shoulders and voice. 

“Not right now,” Jon says again, giving off no emotions.

“I am your PRINCE! And you will both do what I say! You Bastard will turn around and leave your sister here with me!” 

Fear grips me as he shrieks and just the thought that that could happen makes me unable to move. 

Like I am literally frozen to the ground. 

“I will not leave you to hurt my family.” 

Jon’s statement is blunt and said very matter of factly as Joffrey tenses in further anger.

“My Prince.” 

Jon saying his title sets Joffrey off and he charges Jon with all the speed he can. 

I let out a shriek of my own as he nears but Jon easily stops all of his momentum cold as he lifts Joffrey up by the arms and sends him flying right back where he came from. 

Joffrey stumbles a little as he barely saves himself from falling over. The rejection seems to further anger him and he comes charging at us again. 

His head is down as he charges at us. 

Jon waits as he charges and at the last second moves us to the side while giving Joffrey a shove on his back, sending him flying into the wall at the entrance of the hallway at the opposite end of where he was. 

His momentum is so strong, when he hits the wall, a big smack resounds through the hallway and no doubt he will have a bruise on his face from the impact. 

We are lucky that Joffrey does not have his sword as I’m sure that it would be swinging wildly at us by this point. 

He turns and runs at us again undeterred and Jon steps up into the middle of the hallway again and I move with him to stand behind him. 

Jon grabs his arms again but Joffrey is able to get one of his arms free and rares back and punches Jon across the face with all the force he can muster. 

The force knocks Jon off balance slightly and he drops his other arm. Jon recovers quickly but not before Joffrey resorts to kicking and one of the quick attempts lands on Jon’s bad leg which earns a groan from him and for a second, I think that Joffrey is going to get the advantage. 

But the thought is squashed as Jon grabs Joffrey by the collar and punches him twice square across the jaw, exactly where Joffrey went flying into the wall earning a loud groan of pain from him before Jon chucked him to the ground like he weighed nothing. Sending him sliding all the way into the door that leads to Mother and Father’s room with a loud thud. 

The hall’s brief quiet is disturbed as I hear a door open. 

I look to where the sound came from and I see Rickon’s small figure stepping sleepily into the hallway. 

_Rickon…_

The five-year-old is now in clear harm's way as Joffrey is standing again and would be an obvious target for the mad and angry Joffrey. 

“What is…” Rickon starts but Jon cuts him off. 

“Rickon, go to your sister! Now!” Jon orders him and the boy who never in his life has listened to someone the first time, immediately comes running towards us just as Joffrey starts another charge. 

Without thinking I bend down and welcome Rickon into my arms before the boy runs around and stands behind me. I glance up to see Jon shoving Joffrey off him again, but the Prince remained standing this time. 

“Bastard! I am going to have you hanged for this!” Joffrey’s screech is loud and extremely high pitched. 

Rickon lets out a whimper from behind my leg, the five-year-old very scared and confused

“Sansa scream.” 

I am shocked and confused.

Jon’s command is simple and to the point but I have no idea why he asks this of me and my voice hasn’t worked in a long time. 

Joffrey’s screams as he attacks again and Jon easily pushes him back again. 

Jon’s considerable strength and power advantage continues to overpower Joffrey no matter what the Prince tries. 

“Sansa, I need you to scream as loud and for as long as you possibly can.” 

Jon’s voice is slightly strained and tired and I am reminded that he is probably still badly injured from two weeks ago. 

_Trust Jon._

This time without waiting I scream. 

I scream high and loud. 

As high and loud as I possibly can. 

High and loud until I run out of breath and I am left panting. 

I’m not sure if anyone heard me but Joffrey is charging again and Jon pushes him off him. 

Again.

This time however, as Jon shoves Joffrey backwards, one of Joffrey’s flailing hands connects, with some force, to Jon’s ribs. 

Jon lets out a loud pained groan as his face shows the same amount of discomfort that the groan did. 

Joffrey goes sliding back in the hallway again but his face is set with a still determined look. 

I glance at Jon and I can see the pain is still on his face as he takes each breath and his hand starts to reach down towards his injured leg but he stops himself. 

_Why is he still doing this for me?_

As Joffrey begins his attack again, I hear a thundering amount of footsteps start to come down the hallway. Rickon grabs a firmer grasp of my leg at the sound. 

Joffrey reaches Jon again and now tries to deliberately strike at Jon’s chest, finding some sense of strategy in the middle of the scrambled egg that seems to make up his brain. But Jon pins the Prince’s arms by his sides and once again sends him flying back down the hallway, Joffrey landing on his back with a loud thud, just as the group of people that were stomping down the hallway, round the corner. 

I look to Jon and the exhaustion and pain he is in are ringing on his face. 

I look to where the people rounded the corner and see Robb, Father and Jory, which makes me feel much safer. But then I see The Hound and Jaime Lannister behind them, flanked by at least 5 Lannister guards and the fear returns immediately. 

From there everything happens very quickly. 

Robb and Father are immediately by my side, Robb effortlessly lifting a frightened Rickon into his arms and Father trying to talk to me but I do not hear him. My overloaded brain shutting off my ears. 

What I hear first is Joffrey sitting up and starting to bellow from his sitting position. 

“Kill him! Kill the bastard at once! I command it! He attacked me!” he snarls and without thinking the Hound accompanied by the Lannister guards move forward. 

“No... ” I hear myself say softly. 

Jon having barely just stood to full height from where he was leaning against the wall was seized instantly by the guards and is pushed forcefully into the wall, earning another loud groan of pain from him as his chest is driven into the wall with a good amount of force behind it. 

“Let him go!” I hear Robb shout as he sets Rickon back on the ground before he, Jory, and Father surge forward only to be shoved back by the Lannister soldiers. 

“You let my son go right now!” Father yells louder than I have ever heard him yell before. 

“We do not take orders from you!” a guard shouts back.

“You do not get to arrest one of my children in my own home!” 

“He attacked the prince!” the Hound enters. 

“That is bullshit! Jon would never attack anyone let alone the prince for no reason!” Robb fires back. 

From there the hallway descends into a cacophony of loud voices and shoving and screaming at one another, as Joffrey continues to just demand Jon’s head. 

And I simply stand there. 

I'm terrified. 

I’m confused. 

I’m too shaken to say anything. 

The whole ordeal continues until a loud booming voice enters. 

“SILENCE!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> I hope you all liked it! 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted in a week!


	12. The Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the incident in the hallway unfolds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this! 
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe and enjoy this next chapter!
> 
> Let me know how I did!

**Sansa POV**

“SILENCE!”

Everyone freezes and turns to see the King standing at the entry to the hallway accompanied by Cersei, Mother, Arya and Ser Barristan.  
Joffrey is the first to speak. 

“Father this Bastard attacked and struck at me for no reason! I demand he be executed at once!” 

“Jon wouldn’t do that!” Arya shouts. 

“He is a bastard of course he would!” Joffrey yells back at her. 

“That makes absolutely no sense and is just stupid!” 

“Your stupid!” Joffrey lamely fires back. 

“You’re a liar!” 

“QUIET!” the King shouts again. 

He takes a second to look over everyone. 

I sneak a look at Jon and he has his head bowed, looking at the ground. 

“We won’t figure anything out by yelling at each other in an overcrowded hallway. We are all going to calm ourselves down and I will hear everyone out, then we will come to a decision! Ser Barristan, clear out the Great Hall! We will meet there! Everyone take 30 minutes to calm yourselves down and meet back in the Great Hall! Understood?” 

“Yes your grace,” everyone answers. 

He starts to walk away but the voice of the Queen stops him. 

“What of the bastard that savagely beat your son?” Cersei asks, finally choosing to speak. 

The King looks at her with an annoyed look before turning to Jon who is still being pressed against the wall and then to Father. 

“Keep him in chains until we sort all of this out.” 

Robb and Arya immediately voice their disapproval only to be silenced by Father.

“You can’t mean it Robert?” Father asks the King. 

“Your bastard is accused of attacking the Crown Prince Ned. Until we learn the truth he will remain arrested. That is final.”

Robert stomps off and all the Lannisters, along with Joffrey, follow in his wake. Cersei has a small triumphant smile on her face as the Lannister guards lead a still quiet and down looking Jon by the arms down the hallway and out of sight. 

I see Jon and Robb connect eyes and Robb gives him a quick nod and like that there are only Starks left in the hallway. 

I still do not know quite what to do and I can still feel myself frozen with fear. 

“What just happened?” Robb asks angrily, turning to Father.

“What is going to happen to Jon?” Arya asks in a terrified voice.

Everyone turns to me and I feel myself get smaller and the want to cry that I have shoved aside is now back and I feel tears streaming down my face. 

I feel my sobs wrack my body and I am pulled into someone’s chest, I assume it is Father’s. 

I don’t know how long I stay like that but eventually I feel my tears start to subside and I disengage myself from the arms I am in. 

I don’t know how, but I am in my bedroom now, and it is only me, Father, Mother and Arya still in the room. 

When I meet eyes with Father he gives me a small comforting smile.

“Are you injured?” is the first thing Father asks and it rings in my head that Jon had asked me the exact same thing and I feel tears start to well up again at the thought of my brother somewhere in chains because he protected me. 

_It barely even occurs to me that for the first time in my life I called him my brother because after what just happened calling him anything else rings false in my head._

I look back at Father and shake my head no, not trusting my voice to work right now. 

I look around the room and I see Mother looking at me with nothing but care and concern and love in her eyes and I relax a little bit more as I feel her hand moving soothingly along my back. 

The peaceful nature of the room is disturbed by an urgent knock at the door and I tense up immediately. 

I relax again as Robb comes through the door. 

“Mother, Father, there are some people still in the Great Hall not loving Lannister guards forcing them out, you guys better come quick.” 

“I am not leavin--” Mother starts but is cut off. 

“She will be fine here with Arya, come on we need to go. Sansa darling, Robb will come and get you when we are ready.” 

I nod my head, not loving that they are leaving but I do not really get a say and before I can do anything else besides nod, they are all gone and the door is shut behind them leaving only Arya with me. 

She doesn’t move or talk or do anything. 

She simply continues to sit in the chair she had been, looking at the wall. 

She is still. 

Very still. 

Too still. 

I want to say something to her but I do not know what to say. 

Luckily she beats me to it. 

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. 

It is a simple question. 

But one I am not sure that I know the answer to. 

“I don’t know,” I respond quietly but the sentence still rings out into the room. 

We fall into silence again, neither of us quite knowing what to say. 

This is probably the longest that we have been alone together and haven’t started screaming or bickering with one another. 

The silence stretches on until Arya speaks again. 

“Are you going to start talking or do I need to ask first?” 

The question is blunt and to the point which is not at all surprising but I am still not sure if I want to answer it. 

A part of me wants to just let it all out and hope that only relief is on the other side. But the other part of me thinks that saying it out loud will make it real and I’m not sure I can handle that right now. 

Also, I’m not sure if I _should_ tell the truth. If I am to marry Joffrey, shouldn’t I take his side. 

Always. 

Even when he is wrong. 

That is what Mother taught me. 

That is what all my lessons say to do 

But I don’t know if I could live with being responsible for Jon’s death. And no doubt Robb and Arya would be mad at me for eternity. 

_I don’t know what to do. What is the right?_

My tug of war continues until Arya speaks again. 

“Sansa, what you say to the King will most likely decide if Jon lives or if he dies. I can see the confusion on your face and if you even think of doing what I think you might, we will never speak again.” 

The statement isn’t said with anger or malice. 

Just a simple true statement. 

“But I am to be his wife, Mother always taught us…” my thought is interrupted by Arya. 

“And what about what Father taught us?” she says standing from her chair for the first time. 

I have absolutely no clue what she is referring to and she must realize that as she continues. 

“Whether you choose to agree with it or not, Jon is our brother. He is a wolf just like you and me. He may not be part fish, but he has just as much wolf in him as we do. And when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies…” 

“But the pack survives,” I finish for her and she looks at me with a serious look. 

It is a simple statement. 

One I have heard probably a thousand times in my life. 

But at this moment it has never brought me more clarity than it does right now. 

“You are not a lion and you are not a stag. You are a Stark. You are a Stark of Winterfell. You always will be. No matter what. Don’t let those rotten prissy southernors threaten your family.” 

I disengage my staring contest with my bookcase and look up at my little sister, never appreciating her blunt straight forward nature more than I do right now. 

“Thank you Arya,” I say simply. 

She looks surprised at the compliment but before she can respond, there is another knock at my door. 

Robb steps through the door again, now with a nervous look on his face. 

“How are you doing?” he asks. 

“Better,” I say with more confidence. 

I know that this is going to be hard, but I am feeling much clearer now than I was before.

“Good, because it is time, come on.”

I nod at him and shakily stand from my bed, as I am still feeling a bit uneasy in my movements. 

I take a few shaky steps before Arya steps in beside me and I give her a smile. 

“Let’s go.” I say as Arya helps me through my bedroom door in the direction of the Great Hall. 

* * *

**Robb POV**

My heart is racing as I walk behind Sansa who still looks shaky as she walks down the final corridor until we reach the Great Hall. 

My mind is still racing trying to figure out what in the world had happened in that hallway, but Sansa had been in no condition to talk and Joffrey is an asshole, so there is no way his story is true.

I know that Jon did not attack Joffrey for no reason. 

That is so far from who he is that it is almost laughable. And I probably would laugh if the stakes were not so high. 

There is an actual possibility that Jon could die. By the King’s orders no less.

_How did we get here?_

We continue to walk in silence until we finally arrive at the Great Hall and everyone turns to look at us as we enter. 

The room is still very messy and is in a semi disastrous state, but no one seems to be caring about that at the moment. 

I look around the room. 

On the left hand side of me is the Lannister party. A huge assortment of guards, Joffrey sitting agitatedly in his seat flanked by The Kingslayer and the Hound, and Tyrion Lannister is sitting off to the side with a weird smile on his face. 

Sitting at the High Table is the King in the middle, with Father on one side and Queen Cersei on the other, with Ser Barristan standing diligently behind the trio. 

On the obvious Stark side of the room, Mother and Rickon are in two of the seats with Jory, Benjen and a small amount of Stark guards behind us as Sansa sits next to Mother and Arya on her other side as I stand behind them. 

I am way too agitated and nervous to be sitting right now. 

Once we are all settled the King looks around at everybody before speaking. 

“Bring him in,” he calls out and the main doors are opened as two Lannister guards lead Jon into the hall, big chains around his wrists, head down, but a fresh big blue bruise already forming along his left cheekbone. 

Jon is placed in the center of the room, his eyes still down. 

“Now, the reason that we are here is that we need to find out what the hell happened in that bloody hallway!” King Robert says, the agitation clear in his voice. 

“What happened is that bastard attacked me!” Joffrey snarls and I see Ser Jaime roll his eyes. 

“That is not true!” Arya yells back across the room. 

“Silence! Now everyone will be given their chance to speak! So wait your Bloody turn! All of you!” the King yells again. 

I sneak a glance at Jon and see him looking over towards us, but he is not looking at me or Sansa, he has locked eyes with Arya. 

Jon gives her a small nod and a pointed look and I see Arya wilt under the look before nodding back at Jon who goes back to looking at his feet. 

Once everyone is quiet again he continues. 

“Now you boy!” he says loudly gesturing to Joffrey who stands immediately. “What is your story?” 

Joffrey stands with a smirk on his face and turns towards his father. 

“I was escorting Lady Sansa back to her room which I only did at her insistence. When we arrived at her door, she attempted to lure me inside and when I refused she kissed me on the lips,” I looked down trying to control my anger at the blatant lie and I half expect Arya to burst out and yell at Joffrey, but she has her eyes down and is gripping the edges of her chair like her life depends on it. 

“It was then when the bastard came up and started attacking me for no reason. It was only my superior fighting skills that allowed me to fend him off.”

It was at this statement that Jon made his first noise since this whole shit show began. 

And it was a snort of laughter. 

The whole hall turns to look at him in surprise but Jon simply keeps his head down. 

“Something funny bastard?” snarls Joffrey. 

“Joffrey!” the King says loudly, gaining the attention of his son back. “So it is your contention that you did nothing that warranted him attacking you? That you are completely blameless.” 

“Yes,” he says with confidence. 

“The bastard attacked our son unprovoked. That is treason, that means he should be put to death,” the Queen says from the Kings side. 

“Quiet woman! Everyone will speak,” the King says harshly in response and Cersei quickly looks away. 

“Now bastard, step forward,” the King orders and Jon slowly moves forward, the chains binding his wrists the only noise in the room as he does so. 

“Your Grace, I had no malicious intent towards the Crown Prince…” Jon starts. 

“That is a lie!” Joffrey enters. 

“Silence! You have spoken, you are done! Now he will have his chance!” the King bellows at his oldest son who promptly sits back in his chair dejectedly. 

“Speak! Start from the very beginning” the King commanded Jon. 

“Yes your grace. I exited the feast early because I had wished to practice my swordsmanship because I have been on bed rest for two weeks following the Wildling attack. I was just finishing up and was putting everything away when my Lord Brother sought me out.” 

_When I sought him out?_

I know for sure I never did that but I keep my face straight and don’t let my confusion show on my face. 

Jon continues without skipping a beat. 

“He asked me to retrieve Lady Sansa as it was a full moon tonight and they have a shared love of the stars and the night sky and he did not wish for her to miss it.” 

The explanation would make a lot of sense to people who didn’t know that neither me nor Sansa gave two shits about the stars. 

But before I could think too long on it, the King was looking over at me. 

“Is this true? I did not notice your absence.” 

_Well you were a bit preoccupied._

“Yes your grace. The conversation only lasted about 30 seconds. I did not wish to offend you or your family with my absence, so I kept the instructions short and to the point.” 

The King seems to buy my lie and turns back to Jon. 

“Continue,” he orders so Jon does. 

“After that I set off in the direction of Lady Sansa’s chambers as Lord Robb said she had already retired for the evening. As I was nearing the hallway, I heard a panicked scream and I took off running in the direction of where the scream came from.” 

I hear Sansa sniffle and I put my hand on her shoulder to make sure she knows I am there. 

“Now I wish to make sure that I do not know the Crown Prince’s full intention, I will only describe what I saw and how I perceived the situation.” 

“Very well,” Robert responded. 

“When I rounded the corner...Lady Sansa was on the ground, tears on her cheeks and a terrified look on her face as she kicked at the Crown Prince who was standing above her attempting to forcefully lift her skirts higher. After a moment of shock I announced my presence to them both. The prince ordered I turn around and walk away but I refused after seeing the pleading look on my sister’s face.” 

_Openly admitting you disobeyed an order from a Prince. No one can say you don’t have courage._

“You admit to disobeying an order from the Prince?” the Queen asked. 

“I do,” Jon said after a few seconds of thought. 

“Then that is it. That is treason.” 

_Treason?!_

I hear hushed protests from both of my sisters as everyone near me is in shock at the word. 

Before the King can respond, Jon talks again. 

“If you would permit it your grace, please allow me to finish,” Jon asks politely. 

The King hesitates but he glances at Father who gives him a hard stare before the King looks back at Jon. 

“Continue,” Robert says after a few moments. 

“At that point, I put myself in between Lady Sansa and the Prince. The Prince ordered me to leave again and threatened to kill me before charging us. The next few minutes followed the same order of threats then attack and I would repel the Prince’s advances and that is it. That is until I ordered Lady Sansa to scream as loud as she could. Blows by the Prince to my injured ribs and leg, had my body weakening and I knew I would not be able to continue in the fight much longer. That is when the rest of the group arrived.” 

Jon was not finished and you could tell. 

He took a deep breath as I held mine before he continued. 

“I do admit to striking, shoving and disobeying the Crown Prince, but all only in an effort to protect my sister.” 

The King had a weird look on his face, one I could not read and my nervousness only grew as the silence stretched out. 

“Any one of those three crimes by themselves earns yourself losing a hand at the minimum. All together and you would consider yourself to be extremely lucky to get sent to the Wall.” 

I see the Queen smirk smally as I tense even further if that is at all possible. 

“I sincerely apologize, not just to the Prince and yourself, but your entire family for any stress I caused. I like to consider myself loyal, to my family and to the crown especially. But seeing my sister on the ground. Terrified and alone. It reminded me too much of the horror story I heard growing up of what happened to my beloved Aunt Lyanna for me to stand by and do nothing.” 

The queen's smile disappears and I can’t help the one growing on mine. 

_Jon you clever bastard._

The King’s face grows stormy the instant her name is mentioned. 

“That is a bold accusation to make, boy!” he screams at Jon, who stands his ground.

“I can only tell you what I saw your grace,” Jon says simply. 

“Let us ask the future betrothed of your son,” the Queen suggests, not so subtly dropping a hint at Sansa. 

The King turns and looks directly at Sansa who wilts instantly under his stare. 

“Is what he is saying true?” 

Sansa looks around the room before she looks at Joffrey then back up at The King. 

“Yes. Every word. It is the scariest thing I have ever gone through,” she says simply. 

All of the nervousness I had been feeling around Jon quickly turns to white hot rage towards the Prince and it takes every ounce of self control to not go over and punch the Prince into oblivion. 

“The prince _offered_ to walk me back to my room following our dance. When we arrived outside my room, the Prince attempted to force himself on me. I fought back as best I could but the Prince was too strong. Had my brother not arrived when he did, the situation would have...would have gotten much, much worse.” 

Her voice is shaking through the entire explanation and I feel my anger keeping at a steady level just below my threshold of containment. 

_You can’t fake fear like that._

The King turned to his son, a stormy look on his face. He marches down from his spot at the high table as Joffrey stands to face his Father. 

“Fathe-,” Joffrey starts but is unable to finish as the King delivers a strong backhand to the side of his son's head knocking him to the ground.

“If you were not the Prince, I would ship you off to the wall if I did not take your head!” the King bellows loud enough for the whole castle to hear it. 

“Release him!” 

“You are not saying you truly believe the _bastard_ do you? It is obvious that the two of them fabricated the entire story! How do you believe them over your own son?” the Queen asks extremely angry as she kneels next to her wailing pathetic piece of shit son. 

The King simply stands and turns towards Father. 

Two guards move forward to Jon and begin to undo the chains around his wrists. 

I see the entire Lannister clan exiting the room as quickly as possible, Joffrey exiting the room as soon as possible still throwing glares towards us and the King. 

“My son is going to be issuing a formal public apology to you and your family tomorrow. You have my deepest apologies.” 

“That’s it!” 

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. 

“Robb,” Father warns but I cut him off. 

“No! His son almost rapes Sansa and the punishment is an _apology_ ” I ask in a disbelieving tone. 

“Robb,” the voice is deep and sturdy and I turn to see Jon walking towards me, Arya clinging to his side. His eyes are shining in a warning to stop and I reign my anger back in because I know he is feeling the exact same way I am. But if he can keep under control then I will too. 

“I’m sorry for my outburst, your grace. All the emotions of the day impaired my judgement,” I say turning to him bowing my head. 

“Don’t let it become a habit and we will be fine boy,” he says calmly and I nod in response. 

“Robert, I will deal with my son if you deal with yours,” Father says, gaining the attention of his longtime friend. 

“You can bet your ass I will, thank you Ned.” 

“But Your Grace, after this, let me make one thing absolutely clear, and that is I will, under no circumstances, allow my daughter to marry the prince.” 

I hear Sansa let out a sigh of relief and the King sighs in disappointment. 

“Can’t say I blame you.” 

We all watch as he waddles out the door before we all turn back to Father. 

Uncle Benjen had moved next to his brother, being the quiet shadow that we had all grown used to him being. 

“Everybody, my office. Now.” 

No one objects but simply follows behind him in a weird, tense, comfortable silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Up: WE hear from Dany again and go inside the Lannister side of the castle! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	13. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lannisters trio discuss what just happened, while the Starks do the same thing. All the while Dany is going stir crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week another chapter! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, this is a little bit of a longer chapter.
> 
> Let me know how I am did and hope everyone has a great week!

**Jaime POV**

I am definitely walking faster than I normally do right now as I exit Joffrey’s chambers heading in the direction of Cersei and Tyrion rooms, which is headed after the complete debacle that was that trial. 

_This entire night really._

“Don’t let the Prince leave his chambers, King’s orders,” I say to the two Lannister soldiers and Meryn Trant who are all standing sentry outside the door. 

“Understood,” they all say and I continue down the dark hallway, the small lanterns that line the wall are the only thing lighting my path. 

I feel a dark anger in me as I think about the King. 

_He struck my son!_

I rub my head in exasperation as I think back on the events of today, 

It doesn't make any sense. 

All of it. 

Joffrey’s version of the story was straight horseshit. Anyone could realize that. 

The great big oaf we all call king was able to realize that. 

The story that the bastard and the Stark girl posed was more likely, but something still seemed off. 

Joffrey has always been...difficult. 

_That is putting it mildly._

But he has never been bold. 

At least he would never be bold enough to try and go after the Stark girl that quickly and that hard without someone or something influencing him. 

And I have a guess as to who that influencer might be. 

I arrive at her door and do not even bother to knock and walk straight in. 

The scene in front of me is not surprising. 

Cersei is pacing back and forth in the room while Tyrion is sitting in one of the big chairs off to the side watching her with a weird smile on his face and glass of wine in his hand. 

Cersei looks up at me as I stride in. 

“Is he okay?” she asks immediately. 

“Yes, he’ll be fine except for the big blue bruise already forming on his face,” I say the last part with anger and disgust before continuing. “He is in his room with 3 guards around it. All with strict orders not to let him out of his room.” 

“Good,” she responds and her shoulders sag a little bit in relief but she continues to pace anyways. 

“Although I really do not think it is his current situation we should be worried about right now,” I say, earning the attention of both my siblings. 

“What do you want me to be worried about?” Cersei asks with her usual air superiority. 

“How about we worry about why Joffrey would even think about doing something like this in the first place?” 

“He did not do anything. That Stark girl led him along and that bastard attacked him. Robert is not going to do anything to punish them, instead he beats his own son in front of everyone! That is what we should be worried about!” 

I am shocked and Tyrion lets out a small chuckle and Cersei stares at our younger brother with a highly irritated look. 

_Definitely no love lost between them._

“The question is why was Joffrey going after the Stark girl so hard?” 

“She led him on.” 

“No she did not! She sat at her table all night while he looked at her like she was a piece of meat, and then the one time she got up out of her seat he pounced on the opportunity to talk to her,” Tyrion says.

“No she is a little temptress is what she is,” Cersei said, remaining stubborn and I roll my eyes. 

“What did you tell him to do?” I ask her letting some of my anger and annoyance show on my face.  
“Nothing.” 

“Yes you did. Joffrey would never go after the Stark girl with as much ferocity or dedication without some sort of outside influence.” 

“He has the attention span of a bird,” Tyrion adds unhelpfully. 

Cersei glares at Tyrion before looking towards the ground. 

“I may have mentioned that it would be a good thing if he was able to bed the Stark girl while he was here,” she said quietly and I let out a huff of disapproval. “But I did not say to rape her! I told him to do it while we were here. The sooner, the better.” 

“Why?” I ask. 

“The Starks have too much power, especially if Robert makes that wild, fake friend of his Hand. One of the things that is in their favor is that they have a young pretty daughter to be wed off to the highest bidder. I was trying to take her out of play.” 

“By having Joffrey bed her?” Tyrion asked dumbfounded, matching my facial expression. 

“Yes! By bedding her, she would be taken out of play and would not have been as valuable.” 

“You didn’t seriously expect this to work did you?” I ask her exasperated. 

“Of course it was going to work. She is an empty-headed naive northern young girl who should have been easily swayed by a Prince’s charm! But she rejected him!” Cersei said in anger. 

“She is 14 years old! There was no way she was going to fall into bed with someone at that age,” I say exasperatedly.

“And Joffrey reacted the only way he always does. Like a child.” Tyrion says as I take a step back from her trying to calm down. 

“Don’t you dare talk about the Prince like that!” she sneered and I rolled my eyes again. 

“Sweet sister, essentially what you tried to do is give a hound a huge piece of steak, then when the inevitable happened and someone tried to take his snack away mid meal, how did you assume that would end up?” Tyrion asked before finishing the glass of wine that was in his hands. 

“Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be at the whore house?” Cersei asked Tyrion. 

“Been there, done that. Repeatedly. Not the best brothel I have been to, not by a long shot, but it is serviceable. Not very discreet though, I wouldn’t recommend it for you two,” Tyrion says with his cocky smile. 

“Tyrion,” I say grabbing the bridge of my nose. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll go,” he says hopping down from the chair, but not before grabbing the jug of wine in the room. “But do try and keep what happens in here quiet. We do not need another debacle tonight.” 

Cersei shoots him a glare as he retreats out of the room. 

“These bloody Starks think they are so much better than us! They sit up here in their snow and tiny pathetic castles and judge the rest of the world like we are their livestock!” she says in anger. 

“Well one of their children didn’t try to rape anyone tonight, so I say they are doing better than us right now,” I say back to her earning myself a glare.

“Someone needs to teach the bastard a lesson! To teach him and the Starks that no one attacks my son without consequences!” 

“Yeah well, attacking him at all while we are here would just be idiotic. We will be lucky if a war doesn’t start while we are here.” 

“That does not change the fact that he attacked my son!” 

“Well he is off limits right now,” I say back to her repeated statement. 

“I will think of something,” she says musingly, clearly lost in her own head. 

“No that is not--” I start but am cutoff. 

“That will be all, Lord Commander,” she says shortly and let out a sigh of disappointment at seeing the women I love so wrapped around her own head. 

“Yes Your Grace,” I respond formally and make my way towards the door. Just as I close the door, I hear a loud crash come from inside the room, most likely the vase that was on the table finding its way either to the floor or into a wall. 

I let out another sigh and close the door behind me as I set off in the direction of my own room. 

_If we make it out of this without a war starting, I am going to consider that a victory._

* * *

**Ned POV**

I am tired. 

Like exhausted. 

I know that as soon as I allow my brain to slow down for one second, my eyelids are going to start drooping heavily. 

It had been a long day on very little sleep. I had gotten up early to finalize the preparations and from there it was just all go, all the time. 

Which on some level was a good thing, otherwise I probably would have collapsed from exhaustion by now if my brain was not occupied. 

I had been at the edge of the Great Hall looking over the mess of people in the center when I heard the distant scream and I knew instantly it was from Sansa. 

I connected eyes with Robb who was standing near me, then Jory and we all bolted from the hall. 

The whole situation had been a shit show and had taken a turn for the worst when Jon had been dragged off to a cell surrounded by Lannister guards. 

I had no idea what had happened but Sansa was in shock and could barely stand by the time the hallway had cleared. As soon as the hall was devoid of Lannisters she broke down in tears.

And there is no worse feeling than knowing your child is hurting and there is nothing you can do to make her feel better. 

I did not want to leave her to attend to stubborn Northerners but that is my duty as Warden of the North. 

After hearing everyone talk, it was easy to see who was telling the most truth, and who was just telling a straight up lie. The anger I tried to contain as the Prince told his absolutely ridiculous story pushed the limits of my restraint. 

And Jon’s story pushed it further still as I thought about my little girl in that hallway.

It was not a foreign feeling. 

The crushing and close to uncontrollable anger when your family is hurt and killed around you and there's nothing you can do about it. The faces of my Father, brother and sister flash in front of my eyes. 

The urge to march down and kill the prince was very strong but I knew I couldn’t.

In the end for Jon, everything had turned out a lot better than it could have. Not many people could get away with shoving and punching the Crown Prince and it be pardoned by the King. 

_These were extraordinary circumstances to be sure._

Jon’s use of Lyanna’s story, while hard to be reminded of, was very clever and had put Robert over the edge just like he knew it would. 

_I don’t see how this day could get worse._

I let out a sigh of exasperation and try to rub the tiredness out of my face, but it does not help at all. 

I finally arrive at my office and I push open the door and I hear everybody pile in behind me. 

Benjen takes his place over my shoulder behind me, and Jory follows his lead. Robb, Arya, and Sansa pile into the three seats in front of me. Catelyn stands behind Sansa’s chair and Jon behind his brother’s chair. 

“Okay,” I start and I let out a sigh. I can see the exhaustion on everyone’s faces as the adrenaline of the situation seems to be wearing off. 

“Let’s just start with, is everybody okay?” I ask specifically looking at Sansa who gives a small nod, although it looks like she does not quite believe that herself. Everyone else nods their heads yes. 

“Yes, my lord,” Jon says quietly while looking down at the ground. 

He looks highly uncomfortable and seems like he would rather be about anywhere else. 

“I'm glad that all of you are okay. That was...stressful and straining to say the least, but it could have ended a lot worse than it did. Thank you all for keeping a _semi_ -level head and leading the way through this,” I say, glancing at Robb when I say semi-level headed, as his small outburst at the King, while correct, was not very well timed. 

He gives me a small smirk in apology and I turn back to everyone else. 

“Now, does somebody want to tell me what really happened?” 

Robb glances over at Sansa, as does most everyone, but she looks over at Jon with a bit of pleading look in her eyes, like she is hoping he will tell it. 

Jon still has his eyes down and is not looking at anyone, so he does not see that all of the eyes in the room have fallen on him. But he must have felt them as he glances up at me. 

He looks reluctant to speak, like always, so I think I will probably need to call on him. 

“Jon? I assume most of what you said to the King was truthful?” 

“Yes my lord,” he starts and I feel the same ping of disappointment I always do when he calls me that, but I know he does it to appease Catelyn. 

“Almost all of what I told the King was what happened. The only key thing I did leave out was why I was heading up there.” 

“Dany?” Robb half asks, half states, which Jon nods his head in affirmation to. 

“The stars thing was the only thing I could think of. I said the same thing to the Prince when I first arrived, but he of course was not listening to too much at the time. He was too busy screeching like an angry old cat to actually hear anything I was saying.” 

Robb stifles a small laugh, but Arya does not as she lets out a loud laugh and I feel a smile cross my face. 

“I left the feast early and was just swinging at a dummy in the courtyard. Once I was done, I had planned to go up and visit Dany to see how she was doing. It was while I was on my way there, that I heard a yelp and was alerted as to what was going on. From there, what I said was what happened, although I did go a bit farther in my defense than I said. I punched him in the chin twice, plus some other stuff but I was doing my best to keep my temper under control as to not hurt him worse.” 

I nod my head in understanding as I had been very close to losing my own in that hallway and during the trial, I can’t imagine trying to keep it under control while the Prince was attacking me and my daughter. 

“He is lucky that that is all you did to him,” Robb said, giving voice to what the rest of us were thinking.

“So I came up with the stars thing, hoping that these two would play along, because I figured the explanation of, going to see a mysterious person who has been locked up in her room in a relatively closed off portion of the castle was something I should avoid, if at all possible,” Jon says in a very matter of factly way but the statement earns him a few chuckles from Robb and Arya again. 

“That was a good call. Alright Thank you Jon for all you've done to not only protect Sansa, but for handling the entire thing with as much poise and maturity as you did.” 

He didn’t say anything in response. 

He simply shrugged. 

As if to say it didn’t matter. 

“What else was I going to do?” he asks noncommittally. 

I glance at Robb who has a similar look of surprise mixed with confusion at his response, but I decide to move past it. 

“The next few days are going to be hard, confusing and a bit hectic, but we will need to be cautious. We need to avoid a war if at all possible. They want to avoid more conflict just as much as we do, but this will still make things tense and a bit awkward for the next couple of days, so all of you keep your heads down and do not do anything to antagonize anyone, understand?” 

I get another round of yes father and my lord’s from everyone. 

“What if they antagonize us?” Robb asks with a serious look on his face. 

_I have had enough of war for my lifetime._

“Anything short of starting a war...” I say letting them finish the sentence. I know that the answer surprises Robb but I have about reached my limit, and Robert’s apology isn’t enough for me to stop Robb from doing something if the Prince tries to come after us again. 

“Alright, everyone go get some sleep. If you need anything, my door is always open,” I say and everyone nods and begin to make their way towards the door. 

The most surprising thing I see as everyone files out is Arya going to her sister and gluing herself to her side as she helps Sansa walk out of the room. Sansa still is walking pretty gingerly and looks extremely grateful for her sister’s help. 

“Robb,” I call as he heads towards the doorway but turns back at his name. “Make sure to inform our other guest of what happened, I’m sure she is quite curious.” 

“I’m on it,” he says with a small smile. 

I am more cryptic than normal because with more prying eyes in Winterfell than normal, it is better safe than sorry. 

“And Jon,” I call as he lets Robb, followed by Benjen and Jory walk ahead of him out the door. “I’m very proud of you. You have no idea how much it means to me as a father what you did for Sansa,” I say to him as genuinely as I can.

He doesn’t smile but I can see how much it means to him in his eyes. 

_I wish I could say he got my closed off nature from me._

“Thank you, Lord Stark,” he says and the same shot of disappointment rushes through me.

“I hate to ask you this but can you do me another favor,” I ask and he nods. “Try and steer clear of the Prince as much as you can while he’s here.” 

I say it with a little smile and he gives me a hint of one in return. 

“It will be my genuine pleasure,” he says with a smirk and disappears out the door and closes it behind him. 

Now it is just me and Catelyn, who is now sitting in the seat Sansa had exited. 

I take in her small figure sitting back in the chair. 

The woman that, despite our admittedly rough start, I have grown to love. 

She has an exhausted and relieved look on her face as she looks at me.

“That certainly was not the first nights feast that we had planned,” she says dryly, drawing a full laugh from me. 

“Definitely not. I’m only glad that everyone made it through alive.” 

I couldn’t quite say okay, because Sansa had been very clearly deeply affected, Jon had some fresh bruises on his face and the Prince was sporting some new nasty bruises courtesy of Jon. 

_And the King now I’m sure._

She has the same look of wanting to ask a question but is choosing not to ask it. 

“What is your question?” I ask her and she looks up at me in surprise before giving me a small smile. 

“You didn’t mean it did you?” she asks and I am hoping my face is looking as confused as I am feeling, and I must as she continues talking. “When you said to the King that you would not marry Sansa to the Prince. You didn’t mean that did you?” 

I am even more confused and flabbergasted than I was before I understood the question. 

There is a small glimmer of hope in her eyes, like she is actually hoping that I would change my mind.

 _Change my mind and allow my daughter to marry a person who tried to rape her?_

“Yo-You can’t be serious,” I stammer out and look at her like she sprouted a second head. 

“Our daughter would be queen. Our grandson would be the King,” she responds pleadingly, which just furthers to stun me further. 

“He tried to rape her.” 

“He will mature,” she says like it is obvious. 

_I can’t believe what I am hearing right now._

“That is not the kind of thing that people grow out of. The mental capacity of it being okay to rape somebody or not is engrained a little further than their maturity level,” I say still shocked and appalled. 

“He is a prince,” she says it like it is the answer to all of his problems. 

“My sister knew a Prince, what do you think her opinion of him was?” 

The insinuation is untrue and it hurts me to smear my good brother's name in such a way, but it is the only thing that will stop this absolutely ridiculous conversation. 

And it works as she seems to look away, but I can see the disapproval and slight anger in her features as she looks intently at the wall. 

“How could you possibly want to put our daughter in a situation like that?” I say genuinely curious because I need to understand where she is coming from. 

“She is a lady. I have taught her well. She knows what her duty is to her family is, just like I knew mine and she will do hers just like I did mine. And look at how that blossomed for us.” 

Her answer is rehearsed and tone deaf. 

“I would like to think that after today, you would hold me to a slightly higher standard than you do the Prince,” I say dismissively and I am met with a scoff. 

The room is tensely silent for a few minutes after that, her staring at the wall lost in her own thoughts, me staring at my wife trying to figure out her absolutely absurd thinking. 

It is her that finally breaks the silence. 

“It is his fault you know,” she says and I know exactly who she is referring to and I am flabbergasted again. 

“How is it his fault--” 

“If he had left everything alone--” 

“If he had left everything alone our daughter would have been raped!” 

“We don’t know that!” 

“Yes we do!”

“He embarrassed this family!”

“Embar...by protecting our daughter from her attacker?!”

“For striking the Prince! For getting arrested! For causing a spectacle! For interrupting the Prince by laughing at him! For lying to the King! FOR NOT KNOWING HIS PLACE!” 

She is out of breath as she finishes her rant. 

_Knowing his place?_

The only thing that she is correct in what Jon did wrong was interrupting the Prince by laughing at him. 

Was he wrong to do that? 

Yes. 

Does it matter at all given all the other life and house saving decisions he made? 

Fuck no. 

“You actually believe all of that don’t you?” I ask, stunned. 

“How do you not?” she asks in her own disbelief. 

I do not know how to respond and luckily, I do not have to as she talks again. 

“You should send him to the Wall.” 

The statement is short and to the point, which for her is unusual as she likes long complicated eloquent sentences. 

“I am not going to send him to the Wall,” I say matter of factly back to her. 

“It is high time that you send him away, I have had to put up with his presence long enough. And it is where he wants to go anyway. Send him back with Benjen, he will be happier for it.” 

“I will not send my _son_ anywhere he does not want to go,” I say and I can see the usual anger in her eyes when I refer to him as my son. 

“He wants to go!” she says emphatically. 

“Not according to Benjen he doesn’t,” I say smoothly and I get the confused surprised reaction I was expecting from her. “Benjen said when he talked to him today that he seemed far less excited about going to the Wall than he had every other time he has visited.” 

_It is strange, the effect just one event or_ person _can have on someone.  
_ When Jon had seemed less than enthused at the prospect of leaving with Benjen to go back to the Wall, during the middle of the party, Benjen had asked if that had to do with our most recent addition to the castle and I believe that is very much the case. 

Every time I had gone to see Jon over the last few weeks, it seemed like Dany was always in his room. And the few times Jon has come to dinner, the small glances and looks the two shared were definitely not the types of looks you shared with a friend or sibling.

I should be concerned about them getting closer but they are Targaryens so aunt and nephew is pretty tame by their standards. 

And they both deserve all the happiness they can get.

Neither have had an ideal childhood. 

_Though Dany’s is considerably rougher._

“None of that means that you should not send him to the wall. It would make the next few weeks a lot easier.”

“Well easier is not always better. And I will only send him to the Wall if he asks for that himself. If he wants to stay here, he is more than welcome. With all the chaos that is going on and all that these next few weeks could bring, having Jon around to advise and temper Robb will probably be a good thing to have. Both now and in the long term. With what could come next, Robb will need all the family around him he can get.” 

She huffs again and makes her towards the door but before opening it turns back to me. 

“I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight,” she says simply. 

This is not the first time and this mainly happens after something like this. 

_After we talk about Jon._

“Okay,” I respond and she opens the door and I hear her soft clicks of shoes against the stone flooring fade away down the hallway. 

Once she is completely gone, I slump back in my chair and my exhaustion washes over me once again. 

Gone are all the thoughts and worries of the day. 

There is only one thing on my mind. 

Bed. 

I know that I will have to get up on the early side again tomorrow but any sleep I can get sounds fantastic right now. 

I stand woozily from my chair and head in the direction of my room. 

And when I get to the corridor there is one of our household guards at the end of the hallway like I told Jory to do for the foreseeable future. 

You couldn’t see straight down the hallway from this position but would still be able to block anyone wanting entrance to the hallway, which was around the corner. 

“Anything?” I ask him. 

“No, My Lord.” 

“Make sure whoever it is that wakes me up, does so at the latest possible time, understood?”

“Yes My Lord,” he says and I nod at him and continue down the corridor and turn into the hallway. 

I approach Sansa’s door, because I wanted to make a point to check on her. 

When I open the door and see the empty bed, I immediately feel panic spread through me. 

I turn back and look around the empty hallway until my eyes stop at Dany’s door and I relax almost instantly. 

_They have been growing closer._

I approach the door and open it as quietly as possible. 

A smile breaks onto my face as I look into the room and see the two girls fast asleep on the bed with Sansa closer to the door than Dany on the bed. They aren’t cuddling or anything, in fact the only contact I can see between the two is their hands intertwined between them. 

I smile one more time at the sleeping pair before backing out of the room. 

I complete my trek to my bedroom and immediately shed my outerwear and crawl under the covers. 

Immediately my eyelids get very heavy, and I finally give in and allow them to slide close. 

Almost instantly, I feel myself drift off, allowing my brain to get some much needed rest. 

* * *

**Dany POV**

Silence. 

That is what has filled the hallway for what seems like forever now. 

I run my hand through my now dark hair as the need to be moving flows through me. 

_My hair feels heavier than normal._

I turn back to my room and continue the pacing that had filled my time ever since the angry and loud noises had disappeared from behind my closed door. 

I feel like every emotion under the sun has flowed through me while I was contained to this stone box. 

But the most dominant emotion was one I was all too familiar with. 

Fear. 

But this familiar feeling has a foreign feel than it has every other time I have felt it flow through my veins. 

It is not a personal fear for my own safety that I would feel when Viserys would get drunk and slapped me across the face or the shocked fear I felt when Jorah had me pressed against the stonewall back in Pentos or the paralyzing fear that gripped me when I was kneeling in front of the terrorizing group of Wildlings. 

It is an emotional fear. 

I could not fully make out much of what was going on behind my door, but one thing that I could hear clear as day was the grunts of exertion and moans of pain that had been ingrained into my brain ever since I had first heard them in the woods weeks ago. 

The grunts and moans of one Jon Snow. 

I could also hear the high-pitched screeches of someone else in the hallway but I had no idea as to who that was. 

It had taken every ounce of my self-control not to open the door and see what all was going on. 

Eventually the sounds outside my door quieted but not after what seemed like utter chaos had ensued. The mashed up noises and voices had only stopped at a booming voice, which if I had to guess was _King_ Robert. 

I heard him order a trial and then someone, I think Robb yelling Jon’s name and since then nothing. I could tell someone or someones were out there but could not, despite my best efforts, make out what they were saying or doing. 

And I could not risk opening my door. 

So I sat here both wanting and dreading to hear anymore noises. 

And the fear had easily given way to worry. 

I should be worried about the entire Stark family. The people who brought in a disgraced Princess and accepted and cared for me like I was one of their own. 

I should be worried about myself on some level but I can’t bring myself to be. 

Not even a little. 

I am only worried about one person. 

Jon Snow. 

The black-haired boy who had quickly become someone who I am not sure I can but definitely don’t want to relearn how to be without. 

We may not have spent a ton of time together overall; in fact, I have spent _way_ more time with Arya and Sansa than I have with Jon. 

But the time I have spent with Jon seems to stretch on forever and go way too quickly all at the same time. 

It had taken a lot of my self-control to remain focused during our sword lesson. My heart had swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness as both Jon and Arya had unwaveringly and without an ounce of hesitation called me family. The happiness and homey feeling that filled my heart could have lit up even the darkest of nights. 

The small yet simple thank you I had given both of them was nothing compared to the amount of thank yous and appreciation I had stored in my heart. But it was not the right time for a long winded thank you. 

Looking back I had in no way intended for a simple glance to turn into what it did. We did not have much time to begin with before it would be realized that all three of us had disappeared so our time was limited. 

But when I looked over to Jon to try and convey to him my deep gratitude that I did not want to express out loud yet his brown eyes were already trained on me with a smile that matched the one on his lips. 

Gone was the snow on the ground and the green of the trees. 

Gone was the fear and worry and happiness in my body 

Gone was the person standing next to me. 

It could have been Arya or Viserys or the King himself standing there and I would not have been able to tell the difference. 

And I stayed like that. 

Looking at Jon. 

Studying Jon. 

Studying his lips. 

Looking at the bright expression in his eyes. 

My forbidden thoughts of how easy it would be to walk over and bring his lips crashing on to mine weasel their way into the front of my mind. 

Then our glass was shattered as Arya brought our attention back to the present. And my hopeful fantasy filled thoughts were replaced with my certain realistic thoughts. 

That Jon would never be able to see me, a helpless Targaryen Princess, the way that I have started to reluctantly accept that I might see him. 

But those thoughts did not stop my eyes from being drawn to him as he taught and helped me and Arya as we failed over and over. 

I find him watching me with analyzing eyes a couple of times and I give him a small smile back each time trying not to let his stare affect me the way that I know it does.

I caught myself several times just simply watching him with Arya during the times that I was supposed to be practicing, though luckily for me, he did not seem to notice. 

But watching him interact and laugh and coach Arya had my squashed terrifying feelings rising to a place of near undeniability.

But I was nothing if not stubborn so I squashed them down each time and returned to the drill. 

Eventually Jon called it and after a forced excuse that I know Arya did not buy at all, it was just me and Jon. 

And after an attempted compliment I found myself shocked at his determined belief that my statement was false. 

It had floored me. 

And in my shock a determination to make sure he realized how great of a man he truly was I had strode forward, placing my hand on his upper arm. 

I meant to say something else. Something strong and reassuring to him that helped him see how great he truly was. 

But his great brown eyes froze me. 

Gone was my statement. Gone was my determination. 

All that was left was a suppressed desire to bring his lips crashing against mine. 

I fought the urge as I watched the myriad of emotions fade in and out of his eyes. 

Determination. 

Confliction. 

Fear. 

The fear shakes me out of my stupor. 

Is he afraid of me? 

Is he afraid I’m right? 

Is he afraid of someone else? 

I realized again where I was, who I was standing in front of, and what I was considering doing. 

And like that our glass had shattered again. 

And I retreated as quickly and with as much grace as I could. 

But from that point on, whether it was at dinner, him walking determinedly across the yard, or standing in line waiting for the King, my eyes found and followed him. 

Like they had a brain of their own. 

Almost against my own will. 

I let out a shaky breath as I continue my pacing across my room. 

All the fear and worry that has been flowing through me these past few hours has left a pit in my stomach and I felt like I was going to deposit my dinner onto the floor but nothing ever came. 

After I don’t even know how much time I spent pacing, there is a firm knock at my door. 

Without thinking I march over to my door and throw it open with a force I didn’t think I had. 

Standing there is Robb. 

He looks tired. 

But he does not look devastated, which is good. 

“What’s going on? What happened? Is Jon okay?” 

My questions come out fast and out of breath, my worry is extremely evident. 

He does not respond right away, he just gives me a smile, obviously finding my worry entertaining which just serves to heighten my anger which is frayed at best from all of the vibrant emotions running through me. 

But before I can open my mouth to yell at him, he steps in and begins to speak, closing the door behind him. 

“Everyone is fine,” he starts and I immediately myself sag in relief. 

But the panic that had been filling my muscles was quickly replaced with a fierce curiosity. 

“What the hell happened?!” I ask with urgency and he lets out a loud sigh. 

His hesitancy only caused to heighten my curiosity and allowed some of the worry to creep back in. 

“What could you hear?” he asks me, not meeting my eye line. 

“Not much, just grunts and groans and screeches and barely intelligible words. I know Jon was out there but the only thing I could hear besides his grunts was someone whose voice sounded like a dying bird’s screech.” 

The comment earns a chuckle. 

“That would be the Prince for you.”

“The prince was the bird?” 

“The prince is not a bird but a very annoying obnoxious human.”

“I wasn’t saying he was...will you just tell me what happened!”

With that he let out a sigh and launched into the story. 

It was obvious that he did not know all the details of what went down but to be perfectly honest I did not want to know. 

I wouldn’t have even needed to listen to his words to know what he went through the past few hours. It was all in his eyes. I watched as his face contorted into a deep anger as he told me that the Prince attempted to rape Sansa. 

I watched as retroactive fear appeared on his face as he told me about Jon being dragged away. I watched the sadness appear on his face as he described the scene of slowly moving Sansa’s frightened, terrified, and unmoving figure from the desolate hallway into her bedroom. 

And I watched as the fear returned as he described Jon’s trial. 

By the end of his story the worry and all the other vibrant emotions had mostly dissipated from my body and all that remained was one thing. 

Need. 

A powerful need to see Jon, not just be told that he is okay but see him with my own eyes. 

“I need to see Jon,” I state simply getting up and heading for the door only to have Robb grab my wrist and stop my momentum. 

“You know you can’t go down there.”

“Let go of me,” I respond stubbornly. 

“You need to stay here.” 

“No I need to see him. Make sure he is…” I trail off as I feel my throat close and tears come to my eyes. 

“I know that it must be hard for you to just be here and not be able to leave, but an incredibly delicate situation could get bloody if you leave this room,” he sees my hesitation remain in my eyes. “You know that I am right.” 

I know he is right. 

But that does not make me feel any better. 

I let out a depressed sigh and blop down on my bed because even if I still try to leave, he will just force the door closed, and I am nowhere near strong enough to stop him. 

I look over at him and he has an apologetic look in his eyes but that does not quell my worry and anger towards him.

“I need to see him. I need to see for myself that he is okay,” I say stubbornly and he looks at me with annoyance. 

“That can’t happen,” he says, his own stubbornness coming out now as he looks me dead in the eyes and I let out a huff and sit back down on the bed. 

A part of me is just waiting for him to leave so I can just head down there myself despite the logical side of my brain yelling at me that I can’t do that. With all that has happened within these castle walls, a Targaryen being caught inside here would be the knife that descended everything into chaos. 

As if reading my mind, Robb began to speak. 

“Alright, I will make you a deal. My guess is at this point you are just waiting for me to leave to head down there. So in exchange for not doing that, I will make a point of tomorrow morning having Jon come up here so he can check in with you.” 

I give him a small smile at his consideration and nod my head yes in agreement. 

He deflates in relief and I can now, with his guard fully down see how exhausted he is. 

“It better be early in the morning though,” I say to him which earns me a chuckle. 

“You are sure you won’t leave?”

I nod again. 

“Based on how tired you look there has been enough shit today it seems,” I say and he chuckles.

“Too true, alright, I am going to head to bed, I will see you in the morning.”

“Thank you for letting me know what was going on, I was going crazy in here,” I say with sincerity and he gives me a small smile. 

“No problem, good night Dany.”

“Night Robb.”

The doors close behind with the same heavy sound it always does as I collapse backwards onto my bed. 

I still feel the same fear and worry in my stomach as before. Despite Robb’s assurances, without seeing him, or looking him directly in the eyes, I knew that the sickening feeling would not fully go away. 

I didn’t feel like I was going to puke anymore though which was an improvement. 

I don’t know how long I stared at my ceiling stuck in my worried musings but I am broken out of them at the sound of my door slowly opening. 

I feel a sudden rush of fear as I sit up but it leaves just as quickly as I see the bright red hair of Sansa Stark peek out from behind the door. 

I can see the dried tears on her face and an extremely worried look in her eyes.

Without even thinking about it, I stand and stride towards her as she shuts the door behind her and I wrap my arms around her as she reciprocates just as quickly and sags against me. 

I just hold her against me for a couple of stiffeningly silent minutes one foot inside my door. 

Eventually she shifts against me and stands up in front of me. 

“How are you doing?” I ask her quietly and she just gives me a blank shrug. 

“I don’t know…” she says quietly and I nod my head in support. She continues to stare at the wall beside her until she speaks again. “Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight? I just don’t think I can be in that room alone tonight?” 

I give her a reassuring smile. 

“Of course Sansa, anytime you want,” I say softly, earning a thankful gaze before I lead us to my bed. 

I crawl in before her and she crawls in after me before settling on the side of the bed closer to the door. I see her sag against the bed as I am sure she is extremely tired. I put my head against my pillow and closed my eyes. 

My brain is still moving fast but just as it starts to slow down, I hear a small voice from the girl I assumed was asleep. 

“Dany?” she asks softly. 

“Yeah?” I ask, opening my eyes to look into hers. 

“Thank you...for opening my eyes. No one had...made me see the world for what it was. I don’t want to think about what would have happened had I just gone along with what the...p-pr-prince wanted because I had only seen his golden hair.” 

I give her another smile. 

“That’s what family is for,” I say and she returns the smile before reaching down and grabbing my hand that is in between us and both of our eyes drift closed. 

It takes a few more minutes but eventually I feel my brain fully slow down and shut off. Despite the slight knot in my stomach from my still very present worry, I drift off into some very much needed and the sought-after blackness of rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!


	14. The Next Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three days later everyone tries to find a new normal, it does not go exactly according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope everyone is keeping safe and sound out there! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!

**Jon POV**

I stretch my arms above my head trying to relieve the sleepiness from my muscles. 

It has been three days since the chaotic first night and things had settled into a tense new normal. 

The normal chill in my room wakes up my body as my feet sticking out from my small and matted blanket get the full blast of the cold North. 

I glance over at my hearth and am unsurprised to see the fire out and deprived of any remaining logs. I have long gotten used to having only enough wood being placed in my room for half the night. So 90% of mornings I wake up cold and shivering from the Northern temperatures. The only times that isn’t true is when I make time to go get wood for myself but I never really seem to have the time to do that. 

_Hey, I am extremely lucky to get any wood at all!_

My self-admonishment is nothing new and is completely accurate. I should feel appreciative that I get any of the comforts like firewood that so many with names like mine do not get. 

I had had a healthy fire going all time while I was recovering, as Lord Stark had put Maester Luwin in charge of everything having to do with my recovery and that included a fire going at all times so my body could concentrate on healing itself, rather than warming itself. 

At least that is what he said the reason was when I asked about the increased amount of wood stocked in the corner. 

But the luxury had gone away almost as soon as I was close to full health, not that that surprised me. But that didn’t mean my body had adjusted back yet to the cold mornings I would wake up too. 

I sit up with a loud groan and begin to prepare for the day. Grabbing my shirt and breeches from off of my chair in the corner. As I lift the shirt over my head my eyes fall to the leather-bound book the clothes had been piled on top of.   
It was a book Dany had left in here one day during her visits and every time I looked at it my brain would automatically go back to the normally silver haired girl up in the family wing. I had not had the chance to go see her again since the first morning after the incident. 

Not that I had not desperately wanted to see her again, because I most definitely did, but there were more eyes on me than normal and I had not gotten a good opportunity to escape up there again. 

The only reason I had been able to go up the other morning was because of Robb. He had come to retrieve me from my room in the middle of the morning, I was still in my room trying to stay out of the way. I thought it was best that the Prince does not see my face for as long as possible.

* * *

Robb had knocked on my door and let himself in just as I was pulling on my shirt. I knew without turning around that Robb had seen the couple of dark blue bruises on my back courtesy of the Lannister guards from the night before as he released a groan. 

“You okay?” he asked with caution as I turned to look at him, and he was surveying me. 

“I’ll be fine Robb, don’t worry about it,” I say trying to quell his concern but anger only grew in his eyes at my statement. 

“Don’t worry?” he asked incredulously. “Jon you were arrested and almost executed last night for defending my sister, and along the way they gave you new bruises on your back when you just healed from your last ones all while I was helpless to stop any of it! So don’t tell me to not worry!” 

He lets out a shaky breath and his gaze finds the floor below him after his outburst subsided and I give him a small smile. 

A newfound appreciation for my brother flowing through me. 

He wipes a tear from his eye as I approach him slowly. 

He looks up at me with tears brimmed eyes as I put my hand on his shoulder. 

I’m not entirely sure what to say. 

Words have never been my strong suit. 

“Thank you, Robb.”

“What for I didn’t do anything.”

“For being you, for worrying, and for just...I don’t know being someone I know I can count on.” 

He wiped another tear from his eye and gave me a watery smile. 

“Uhhh, I promised Dany I would bring you up to see her this morning. She was kind of freaking out last night and it was the only thing that kept her in her room.” 

_She was freaking out?_

I feel myself smile at the fact that she would worry about me at all. Before I can think too long on it Robb continues talking 

“If we want to do that, now is the best time when all the Lannisters are breaking their fast. It will have to be a quick visit though.” 

I nod in agreement before gesturing towards the door. 

“Shall we,” I said. 

We had taken the backway up to the room to avoid as many people as possible. When we had arrived at the room, me, and Dany locked eyes immediately and she made to move closer but stopped herself. 

I feel my heart jump a little. 

_Man just seeing her does things to me._

All I wanted to do in that moment was move across the room and pull her into my chest but I don’t. 

I momentarily had forgotten that Robb was even in the room as we stared into her eyes. That was until he, unsurprisingly, spoke. 

“Happy now?” he asked Dany in a joking tone. 

She broke our eye contact and glanced over at Robb with a slight glare at his teasing which earned a chuckle from Robb but didn't say anything to him. 

“Are you okay?” she asks softly. 

I give her a small smile. 

“Yeah. Little tired though,” I say trying to cut the serious tone that had overtaken the room.

It worked as they both chuckled, Dany giving me a shy smile. 

“Alright we should probably be getting back, any longer and we run the risk of running into Lannisters which with this guy next to me, would not be a good idea,” Robb said. 

But before we could retreat Dany stepped towards us and wrapped me in a gentle hug which I returned. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she whispered in my ear low enough that Robb couldn’t hear them as I felt the warmth of her body warm me up better than any blanket ever could. 

I shake myself out of my thoughts and the cold of the room envelops me again. I had not been able to make it up to see her again as I had too many eyes on me if I left my room at all to run the risk of going up to see her. 

* * *

I throw on my cloak and exit my room in the direction of the kitchens. I learned two days ago to just avoid the Great Hall as someone I did not want to see was always there. Plus it was not unusual for me to get some food from the Kitchen regularly anyway when _other things_ kept me from eating with the Family. 

I didn’t always eat in the morning anyways but today was the first day we were starting our sparring lessons again so if I didn’t want to keel over, I needed some food in my stomach. 

I cross the big open doors that lead to the Great Hall and I glance up at the front of the room as I go by where Joffrey had given his sorry excuse of an apology. Anyone could see that he didn’t mean it, but no said anything, not even the King. 

Everyone just wanted it done with. I had snuck into the back of the room to watch because I was curious as to how it would go. 

Robb and Lord and Lady Stark were all at the front to accept the apology. Though Father accepted the apology with as much grace as he could the Northern Lords were not so easily put down as several shouted back at the King at the ridiculousness of it all. 

The loudest of which was Lord Jon Umber. 

The King looked to Father to get them under control but Father simply stood there. Too mad to care what they were doing. Despite the resistance the King simply left not wanting to hear the shouts of the Northern Lords. 

Sansa, as far as I knew, had not emerged from her room since the incident and I cannot say that I blame her for that. Arya said she was doing okay but was just “freaked out” as she put it. 

I don’t know what happened but Arya no longer rolled her eyes or scoffed at the mention of her older sister. 

When I had asked her about it, she had simply said that sometimes tragedy brought clarity. Whatever it was, I was glad as any improvement in those two’s relationship would give all of us less headaches. 

I approach the kitchens and I quickly send my eyes to the ground as I see the Queen walking down the hallway. It seems like every time I left my room, she ran into me at some point, and each time she gave me a look that mirrored ones I receive from Lady Stark. 

And she wasn’t the only one. It seemed like everyone the Lannister Party tracked me with their eyes everywhere I went and even the Stark soldiers actually started looking at me unlike before. 

All the eyes on me made me extremely uncomfortable. No one ever paid attention to me this much and I hated the amount of attention I received then. 

No it constantly felt like I was being suffocated by everyone's eyes.

Right now though two of those eyes were Robb’s. He was watching me like he was trying to figure out some puzzle. He never said anything to me that wasn’t normal or friendly, but I could tell he was trying to figure something out, and I was at the very center of it. 

Speaking of Robb, I see him walking towards me as I finish the small portion of sausage I grabbed. 

“You ready Snow?” he asks with his usual bravado energy. 

I give him a small grunt in return as he falls in line with my stride to my left. 

We walk in silence towards the sparring ground, the background noises of the overcrowded castle moving around us the only sounds. 

Until he breaks it, again. 

“So are you actually going to go full speed today or are you going to go half speed and make me look like an idiot?” 

I let out a sigh at the question. 

“You don’t even know if they are going to show up or not?”

“Father said that he and the king are going to make a point of coming to watch the sparring today, so yes in fact I do know.”

Silence falls between us again, before he stops us in the middle of the hallway and jerks me around so I am facing him. 

“Jon, I don't know why you have hidden how good you are all these years. And I will find out why. But now that I know, I am not going to let it continue. Besides, have you ever considered you were hurting me by never challenging me?” 

_It isn’t you I was trying to save._

But the look in his eyes is one he does not where often, I have dubbed it his Lord face. His features are set in a stern and commanding way where it is obvious that there is no room for debate. 

_He is going to make a great Warden of the North._

I reluctantly shake my head yes and he lets out a relieved sigh, while I feel a familiar fear settle in my stomach. 

We resume our walk and quickly stride into the familiar courtyard where Theon is just finishing getting out all the gear. 

“There’s the two slow pokes. I thought I was going to have come drag your asses out of bed.” 

“That’s big talk coming from a guy who spends most of his time in these sessions face down in the mud,” Robb shoots back as I ignore both of them. 

Robb throws a sword my way as it is our turn to go first. 

We turn to face each other and begin our usual stare down. I take a deep breath and focus on my target in front of me. 

It is my turn to make the first move. 

I swing my sword down from the left the way I always do but unlike before it is faster and truer. 

He blocks the blow easy enough and we begin our dance. 

I am not going 100%, mostly because I don’t think I can sustain that for long enough for it to be effective. But I am going strong enough that I know I should beat him if I’m not dumb. 

We continue in our rhythm for a few minutes and I see his movements start to decrease in speed slightly and I know soon I’ll be able to put him in the dirt but I want to stretch this out longer. 

Make this look better as I see in my peripheral vision that the longer, we have gone the larger crowd we drew. 

We go for another couple minutes as I continue to press my advantage and Robb struggling to keep up best he can. 

_It is time to end this._

I have to remind myself that this is what Robb wants as he attacks me again. I know that this will get me in trouble with Lady Stark, but Robb is right, if I let him beat me now, he will just look bad. 

So I have no choice. 

He cuts down and I roll out of the way, swinging behind me to stop Robb’s incoming swing and pushing it off me. I quickly stand and Robb attacks me again. 

_3 moves then he is down._

He swings again in a defensive swing, trying not to expose himself and save energy, but by doing that he left me the opening I need. I swing down with as much power as I can muster and meet his sword which pushes Robb back under the force of the strike causing him to stumble. 

He is able to find his balance but when his sword flails to the left I knock it out of his hands before giving him a kick in the chest sending him into the dirt. 

There are a lot of collective gasps around the yard, along with one voice of laughter as they all wait to see what Robb’s reaction is. But without wasting anytime, Robb pops up with a huge smile on his face before wrapping me in a massive hug. 

The impact causes a small groan of pain to escape my lips but luckily Robb doesn’t seem to hear it as the crowd around us erupted in cheers and applause. 

“Thank you Jon. I guess there are some things you need to teach me,” he whispers in my ear. 

I don’t respond and quickly disengage from the hug as a few murmurs start to come up around us. We both turn towards the balustrade just as Joffrey comes walking into the courtyard with 5 Lannister guards trailing behind him. 

Robb steps up in front of me, taking the lead like he always does. I take a step and stand to his right, Theon doing the same on the left. 

Ser Rodrik also comes over but he stands in between the two groups, hoping to mediate the oncoming conflict I’m guessing.

Robb has his face set in a scowl as he looks at the man who tried to rape his sister and I’m sure it is taking a lot for him not to lunge at him right now. 

We stay in an intense stare down before Joffrey scoffs dismissively and starts speaking. 

“Look at you pathetic runts, here trying to act all manly while using your pretend swords,” he says arrogantly gesturing to the sparring swords.

Robb tenses again at the jab but seems to be keeping it locked down enough, as he responds. 

“While us pathetic runts were working, I didn’t see you out here Your Grace,” he says between his gritted teeth. 

“Oh no need, sparring with you northerners would just be a waste of time, I am the Prince and therefore far superior” he says as his five guards laugh around him like puppets. 

“You tasting what our mud tastes like seems like a great use of time to me, Your Grace,” Theon says with laughter in his voice but the challenger underneath does not go unnoticed. 

I do not like Theon, but I appreciate his crudeness right now as his comment makes Joffrey go from laughing to anger in a blink of an eye. 

Robb throws Theon a small look and Theon shuts up. 

“You do not get to insult me!” Joffrey says in his same menacing voice looking at Theon. 

“It is not an insult to Your Grace. It is a fact,” Robb says with an arrogant smile, enjoying the Prince’s anger. 

I see the guards behind Joffrey tense a little bit and I see each of them tense their fingers, itching to grab their swords, just waiting. 

“It is not true, I could defeat you all with even thinking!” Joffrey snarls and I feel a smile pull at my lips. 

If how he attacked me in the hallway is any indication of his sword fighting skills, then I’m pretty sure, Arya could beat him and she has had only one practice. 

“Then prove it Your Grace. Join me in a spar,” Robb says. 

Joffrey switches emotions again as he now laughs. 

“Spar? Using those play swords? A prince does not use such childlike equipment, if you want to do this, we use real blades,” Joffrey says putting his hand on his sword strapped to his left hip. 

“Sounds good to--,” Robb starts to say but is cut off. 

“No!” 

The voice comes from Ser Rodrik standing off to the side. 

“I will not allow live blades,” he says authoritatively. 

“Looks like you are too cowardly to fight Stark,” Joffrey says and Robb’s angry look comes back as he walks up to Rodrik. 

“No one will get hurt, can we please use live swords just this once,” he pleads but Rodrik is having none of it. 

“No Robb! I will not have you using live swords against the Prince I’m sorry, you are just going to have to live with it,” Robb holds back his comment and stalks back to where he was standing in between me and Theon, throwing daggers at the prince. 

“Too bad Stark, I was looking forward to humiliating you in front of all these people,” Joffrey says as he turns and begins to walk away and a thought comes to my mind. 

I step up and whisper it in Robb’s ear and his eyes shine as he looks back at me before calling out to Joffrey.

“Your Grace?”

Joffrey and his goons turn around again. 

“What if I use a sparring sword?” Robb asks. 

Joffrey laughs again.

“You northerners really are dimwitted. I haven’t used a sparring sword in 11 years and I am starting again today.”

“I’m not asking you to use one Your Grace,” Robb says triumphantly, earning a weird questioning look from Joffrey and his goons. “I will use a sparring sword, you can use a live sword.” 

This causes Joffrey to laugh loudly again.

“It seems you are determined to be humiliated Stark,” Joffrey says stepping back towards 

“I can’t allow this,” Rodrik says again. 

“It doesn’t matter what kind of blade he is using if he can't touch me,” Robb begs our instructor again. 

“No Robb I’m sorry! No live blades!” Rodrik says again but a loud booming voice spreads over the courtyard. 

“Let the boys fight!” 

We all look up to see King Robert standing overlooking us all, with Father right beside him. 

“Your Grace I apologize but the use of live blades unnecessarily endangers not only your son, but Lord Robb as well,” Rodrik says looking up at him. 

“The boys want to fight, I say let them fight,” The King repeats, much to the enjoyment of the crowd.

“I will not have my son and heir put in danger Robert,” Lord Stark says to his longtime friend.

Robert looks at Father for a second before speaking again. 

“Fine, the bastard then,” he says and everyone’s eyes land on me in one instant. 

I want to wilt under all the prying eyes but I stand up taller and look up at Lord Stark. He is looking right at me, asking me a simple question. 

I can see the reservation in his eyes but he knows he doesn’t have much of a choice. The King seems pretty set on some sort of fight happening right now so I give him a small nod and he lets out a deep irritated breath before nodding his head to the King. 

“You boy,” the King says beckoning me over. 

I walk until I am directly in front of him. 

“Yes Your Grace?” I ask, keeping my eyes down at a respectful level. 

“I will give you a choice whether or not you would like to do this,” he said. 

I glance back at Robb who is looking at me begging me to do it, then shift my eyes up to Lord Stark who is begging me not to. 

_I can’t let Robb down._

“It would be an honor Your Grace,” I say and there are cheers again from everyone around the courtyard. All the people who had watched this entire drama unfold getting rewarded with the fight that was promised. 

“Then let’s get it started,” Robert says and I move over to where I had set my sparring sword, as Joffrey moved confidently over to the other side. 

I swing my sword around in my hand effortlessly a few times and I see the Prince give me a snarl. 

I glance to the side and lock eyes with Robb again and he has a nervous look in his eyes but gives me a confident nod which I return before turning back to Joffrey whose sinister eyes are baring into me. 

_He will not hold back on injuring me if he gets a chance, so I better be ready._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well what did you think? Let me know! 
> 
> Next Up: the sparring match and we visit with Tyrion for the first time.


	15. The Spar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Joffrey have their sparring match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter! 
> 
> Hope everyone is doing great and enjoys this chapter! Thank you so much for reading this! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

**Robb POV**

I feel my stomach roll as Jon steps up into the center of the circle of people, awaiting Joffrey, whose eyes have not left Jon since his father approved the fight. 

_That should be me._

I really wanted to be the one to knock Joffrey on his ass for what he did to Sansa but father took that from me so I will have to settle for it being Jon. 

My brain understands why it can’t be me but I still do not like it. 

I move my eyes up from where they were glued to Jon’s focused form to where Father was standing with the King. 

The King himself looks very excited about what is about to unfold. Father on the other hand has an extremely worried look on his face. 

My focus is brought back to the scene in front of me as Theon reappears at my side. 

“This is going to be fun,” he says to me with a smile. 

“As long as Jon is okay, that is all I care about,” I say in response. 

And that is true. 

Yes it would be fun to see Joffrey get embarrassed at Jon’s hand, but Jon was still using just a sparring sword and Joffrey is very much not. 

And I do not trust Joffrey enough to not seriously injure Jon if given the opportunity. 

I have no doubt that Jon is more skilled with a sword, but all it takes is one mistake. 

One distraction. 

One trip. 

And things could get very wrong, very fast. 

“Don’t worry Robb, Jon’s got this,” Theon says with nothing but confidence. 

“All it takes is one mistake…” 

“If Jon was able to survive the wildlings, he can survive this,” Theon said as if it was super obvious. 

Which I guess it is, but that doesn’t make the fear go away. 

_As long as he is okay._

Another round of cheers and claps start as Joffrey’s pampered ass is finally ready. 

Joffrey has his sword still at his hip, but all the Lannister people around the courtyard cheer again as he pulls the sword out of its scabbard and gets into his stance. 

Well a stance might be a bit of a stretch. He more just holds the sword out in front of him with his right hand and keeps an extremely relaxed posture. 

He looks ridiculous. 

I almost burst out laughing despite everything else. 

Theon lets out a snort beside me. 

Jon looks over at me with an extremely confused look. His eyes screaming “Are you fucking serious with this guy?” at me. 

I just shrug at him before he refocuses on Joffrey. 

“Get in your stance Boy!” the King’s loud booming voice echoes from the balustrade above.

A few from the Stark side of the crowd let out a laugh but quickly shut up. The Prince is facing away from me as he turns towards the King but his posture went from relaxed to tense very quickly as he looked up at his father. Joffrey stares up at the King for a few seconds before turning back towards Jon. 

His face which had been relaxed and pleased was not serious and stormy but also a bit lost. 

His sword which was gripped loose and lazy in his right hand was now getting strangled by both hands. And his body which had been side-faced and relaxed, now was square with Jon’s and screamed anger.

There was a tense silence as the two looked at each other, the only sound was Joffrey’s heavy breathing. 

“You may have the first move, Your Grace, whenever you are read--” Jon does not get to finish as Joffrey lets out a primal scream charging at Jon with his sword over his head. 

He brings it down with as much force as he can, which doesn’t look like very much, but Jon ducks out of the way letting Joffrey’s swing send him flailing by him.

_Oh my god he is terrible._

Undeterred by the miss, Joffrey turns again running at Jon with the same ferocity. 

He brings his sword down from the left side, but instead of moving away, Jon meets the glistening steel sword with his old dingy one stopping the force of the blow with little trouble. Jon sends the sword to the side before giving Joffrey a hard kick in the chest, sending the prince flying backwards into the dirt. 

I feel a smile form on my lips as the Stark side of the crowd cheers. 

Jon stays down in his defensive stance as Joffrey quickly moves to stand, his face showing his increase in anger towards Jon. 

Joffrey, now on his feet again, charges at Jon again, swinging his sword with his right hand down towards Jon, which Jon rolls under before grabbing the prince's arm as he tries to swing back at Jon. He gives the prince a nice shove, sending the prince stumbling away from him a couple of feet. 

Joffrey, as persistent as ever, comes charging again and this time swings his sword up from the ground, meeting Jon’s sword even with their knees. Jon sends the prince’s sword up, leaving his right shoulder exposed in front of him. 

Jon drives his shoulder forward into Joffrey’s skinny frame sending him ass first into the mud again. 

Jon moves away from Joffrey and backs toward us. 

“Jon,” Theon says as I look at Theon like he is crazy for distracting Jon at a time like this. 

Jon looked back with annoyance in his eyes until I see Theon’s eyes travel downward near where Jon is standing. Jon follows his eyeline and it falls on a particularly nasty wet mud patch. Probably the worst one on the ground. 

I feel myself smile and Jon gives us a smirk before turning back to Joffrey who was standing again. 

Joffrey lets out another high-pitched scream as he charges Jon, but Jon stays firm in place. 

As Joffrey nears, Jon moves under his downward swing but instead of moving away, turns back and gives the Prince a hard kick in the ass sending him face first into the exact mud patch Theon pointed out. 

The Stark side cheers again as Jon gets a small smile on his lips. 

Joffrey stands again, face angry and covered in mud. 

I am trying really hard not to laugh but it is really hard, I mean he looks like an angry mud-covered toddler. 

“You can’t defeat me! You are not better than me BASTARD! I AM THE PRINCE OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS!” Joffrey screeches. 

“Then how come he just did?” I ask from my spot on the sidelines. 

“Three straight times,” Theon says backing me up. 

_The Prince_ opens and closes his mouth several times, looking for a response but can’t seem to come up with one. 

Finally he turns and stomps off in a huff, his Lannister guards trailing behind him as he runs and hides. His high screeching voice yelling at his guards is quickly drowned out by the Stark mean cheer at the sight. 

I move forward and wrap Jon in a hug, half in relief he is okay, the other in joy of what he just did to the Prince. The cheers quiet down quickly and Jon turns to face where Father and the King are standing. 

“Step forward boy,” the King says and Jon steps up. 

“You are good with a sword. That was very well done.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Jon says humbly. 

“It looks like I will be needing to train my son up a bit,” he says with a laugh. 

“He fought with tremendous passion, Your Grace,” Jon says graciously. 

“All passion, no skill.” 

_Hard to argue with that._

Now, I’m sure you all have things you should be attending to,” the King announced loudly, his voice holding back anger. 

Everyone getting the hint quickly scurries away and I move forward to Jon. 

“Very impressive,” I say, gaining his attention. 

“Nothing that impressive, I’m pretty sure Rickon could have beaten him,” he says with humor in his voice earning a full belly laugh from me. 

“You are not wrong,” I say before clapping him on the shoulder. “Alright I have got some things I should get to, I’ll see you later.” 

“Sounds good.” 

I turn away from him and start walking towards the forgery, as I walk, I am greeted by the sight of my mother looking down from the balustrade opposite of where the King was standing. 

She has an angry look on her face, not quite the natural deep anger from the Great Hall a few days ago, but more than I normally would see on her face ever. 

_And I definitely pushed that boundary growing up._

I follow her eyesight and find Jon talking with an extremely excited Arya at the end of the path. I know Arya is supposed to be in some lesson right now with the other girls but am not surprised, and am slightly amused, that she snuck out and probably was able to find a place to watch the sparring match. 

I am still not sure what it is with Mother lately, but I am still very much committed to finding out what the fuck is up with her. 

I know I may not like what I find, hell I already don’t like that my mother seems to have some sort of anger driven secret persona she keeps hidden from anyone, but sometimes hard truths are necessary. 

* * *

**Tyrion POV**

There are a lot of times that I curse my short legs. 

This is definitely one of those times. 

I feel my legs stiffen up even more as I try to maintain pace beside my clearly agitated older brother.

We had been standing together just off to the side as the embarrassment of our family’s future took place in front of us. The Stark bastard didn’t even look like he was trying that hard as he threw my wretched nephew across the yard. 

Jaime watched the spectacle of his son being thrown around the yard looking like he had swallowed a lemon. 

Jaime continues his manic pace of walking in the direction of where Joffrey had disappeared to. 

_The little punk is always trying to bite off more than he can chew._

And unfortunately for all of us he has a very weak chin. 

“If you’re trying to make my legs fall off you are doing a great job of it brother,” I say out of breath. 

He just gives me a small grunt in response but does slow his pace down a little. 

Jaime continues to walk in determined silence until he reaches Cersei’s room, which is right next to Joffrey’s in the guest hallway our family is currently being housed in. 

Without even knocking he blasts the door open and we enter the room. Cersei is pacing back and forth in front of a smashed vase that I’m sure was the unfortunate recipient of Cersei’s anger.

She looks up at Jaime as we come in, not even acknowledging my existence as usual. 

“There you are, I demand you go out there and arrest that vile traitor!” she screams before the door is even shut behind us. 

I try to keep from laughing but I can’t help the snort that leaves my mouth earning me a glare from both my older siblings. 

“Arrest him for what?” Jaime asks exasperatedly. 

“He assaulted the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, he needs to be arrested and beheaded for treason!”

“Treason?” Jaime says, shocked. 

“Yes! He savagely beat my son while all of these northern wildlings cheered him on,” Cersei says, her face becoming a deeper red with every passing second from her ingrained anger. 

“It’s called a sparring match Cersei, if he didn’t want to be beaten, he shouldn’t have challenged them or he should be better. All those sorry challengers you send at him in the Red Keep do nothing to help him improve.” 

“Well it’s your fault that he is not any better than he is,” Cersei answers.

“How is it my fault?” Jaime asks. 

“You should have taught him better! He is your--”

“Let’s be careful how that sentence ends shall we,” I say cutting off Cersei from creating a much bigger mess. 

Cersei lets out a huff and turns away from us. 

Jaime stares intently at her back, no doubt trying to figure out what to say. But he doesn’t get the chance as there is a knock at the door. 

“What is it!” Cersei demands as the door opens to reveal my lousy cousin. 

“Our dear cousin Lancel, what can we do for you,” I ask in my fake pleasant voice. 

The boy looks terrified as he steps in the room, although I think that is just his normal state. 

“The King has demanded to see his son in his office,” Lancel squeaks out. 

Cersei spins immediately and walks up to Lancel towering over him. 

“And what does he want with my son?” 

“I do not know Your Grace. He was extremely angry though,” Lancel squeaks out again cowering under the Queen’s glare. 

“Perhaps he wants to spar with him, no doubt it would be a tremendous match-up,” I say, earning me a look from Jaime.

Cersei I don’t think hears me and she storms out of the room towards the King’s chamber. 

Me and Jaime meet eyes for a second before following her out, Lancel scrambling behind to keep up.

Us three turn right to retrieve Joffrey from his room, the Kingsguard in front of his door stays still in front of the door as we approach. 

“The prince has asked not to be disturbed for any reason,” Meryn Trant says. 

Silence follows as Lancel seems to not be talking anymore. 

“He has been summoned by the King,” Jaime finally says to cut the silence as Lancel nods in agreement. 

Trant stays stock still for a few more seconds before moving out of the way. 

Jaime moves forward and knocks on the door. 

“I SAID TO LEAVE ME ALONE YOU PEASANTS!” a shriek from the other side says. 

“My Prince, your father has summoned you to his chambers,” Jaime calls and I can hear the annoyance in his voice. 

I’m honestly not sure what Joffrey is going to do as silence follows Jaime’s words. We wait a few more seconds and just as Jaime moves to speak again, the door is ripped open causing an extremely unmanly wail to come from Lancel. 

“Ah cousin Lancel, you become more of a knight every single day,” I say with a smirk on my face. 

Joffrey stomps angrily from the room and down the hallway, each of the three Kingsguard falling in step behind him down the hallway with me and Lancel after them. 

It is a short walk to Robert’s chambers, which I am more than grateful for. 

_Hopefully, Ros will be able to rub my legs later._

When I enter the room, Joffrey is already screaming. I find a place off to the left where I am out of everyone’s way. 

“The BASTARD attacked and insulted me for a second time! He needs to be punished! He attac--,” Joffrey screams at the King. 

“Shut up Boy!” the King bellows, cutting off his son. 

You can feel the tension in the room as Robert stares down his son.

“We are here as GUESTS but you come into their home, assault one of our hosts and then embarrass not only yourself but ME AND YOUR FAMILY WITH THAT MONSTROSITY OF A PERFORMANCE!” 

Robert’s voice is loud and booming in the small space as Joffrey cowers in front of his father. 

This is not unfamiliar territory for these two as I heard a terribly similar but much harsher conversation happening the morning after Joffrey tried to rape the Stark girl. 

Difference is this time there is an audience. 

“YOU MADE YOURSELF LOOK LIKE A FOOL! SWINGING THAT SWORD AROUND LIKE YOU’VE NEVER SWUNG IT BEFORE!”

I spare a look over at Jaime and he has his head down in shame. 

“Father the bastard--” Joffrey started but is cut off again. 

“MADE A FOOL OUT OF YOU! I’m half tempted to make you take that sword off of your hip since you clearly don’t know how to use it,” Robert says before letting everyone stew in silence. “The minute we get back to King’s Landing you are going to start learning how to actually use that bloody sword. No son of mine will be as fucking incompetent as you are with his weapon!”

Joffrey doesn’t talk, but just barely shakes his head in understanding. Cersei who had made her way to the front of the room near Robert was wearing a dark angry expression as she watched her son cower in front of Robert. 

_Is she mad at Robert for yelling at him or Joffrey for taking it so easily?_

Only her wacked out mind knows. 

“YOU ARE A DISGRACE! Now get out of my sight and get ready for the bloody feast tonight! You better be on your best tucking behavior boy and try not to embarrass this family for the third time!” 

With that Joffrey stormed from the room his guards trailing behind him and Robert stormed out the side door. If he was still as strong as he used to be, he probably would have ripped it off its hinges. 

_Luckily for all of us, he is nowhere near that strong anymore._

Everyone starts filtering out of the room as I make my way across the room to Jaime who is still standing stock still on the far side of the room. 

By the time I reach him, the last of the people are leaving the room empty. 

“That sure was a spectacle wasn’t it,” I say. 

“I’m glad someone enjoyed it,” he says downtroddenly. 

“Hey, it could have been worse,” I try to say optimistically but I am met with my brother's skeptical glare.

“How could it have possibly been worse?” 

“A situation could always become worse Jaime, haven’t we proven that the past couple of days?”

“I suppose you're right about that,” he says moving off the wall for the first time.

“Of course I am, now I’m sure this whole mess will make tonight very fun, but there is a much more fun mess that is calling my name.” 

“Hopefully it doesn’t take too long, the feast starts in not too long,” Jaime says to my retreating form. 

“I’m sure the Starks will be deeply offended by the lack of my presence,” I say sarcastically over my shoulder. 

I don’t hear a response so I slip out the door and head in the direction of the Winter town brothel very much in need of some relaxation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! 
> 
> Thank you so much again for reading my story! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!


	16. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone continues to try to settle in following Joffrey trying to rape Sansa, but an announcement by the king just might throw everything back into chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading my story! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and are staying safe during these crazy times.
> 
> Let me know how I do!

**Ned POV**

_We just cannot seem to avoid mayhem, here can we?_

I was really hoping that after the shit show that was the first night, we would be able to get through the rest of the visit without any more major incidents. I knew that was unlikely to happen, especially with so many proud, arrogant young men around the castle. 

And unfortunately, I was right. 

I am just happy that nobody got seriously hurt. 

Well physically. 

I’m sure the Prince’s ego took a rather good hit. 

I continued my hurried strides down the corridor in pursuit of my office, there are some things I need to accomplish before I get ready for the feast tonight. This is the first feast we’ve held since the first night and I’m sure we are all just hoping nothing bad is going to happen. 

I get to my office door and just as I open it, I hear my wife’s voice come from behind me. 

“Ned,” she calls and I move behind my desk leaving the door open for her to enter. 

“We can’t go just a couple of days with something not happening here can we,” she says closing the door behind her. 

Her tone is light and she is almost laughing at the cacophony of events that seemed to have filled this castle the last few months. 

“It certainly seems that way,” I say to her with a smile and a small chuckle as she moves behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. 

I hum in appreciation as I feel her fingers work out the stress that I always seem to be carrying around. 

“Are we all set for tonight?” I ask. 

“Yep, I’m going to see if Sansa feels up to coming,” she says quietly

“Don’t rush her, she went through a lot and we can’t rush her,” I respond to her.

“I know, I know but she has not left that hallway since it happened. She is either in with Dany or in her own room with Arya.” 

That was something that I have been very pleased to see over the past couple of days is how close this tragedy has brought Sansa and Arya. Those two have always been at each other's necks but this has seemed to make them appreciate each other. 

“I know she should leave, but I don’t think forcing her to come and sit nicely in a room with the man who tried to rape her is a good place to start.” 

I hear Cat let out a deep breath and ceases rubbing my shoulders as she comes to stand next to me. 

I can tell she is thinking about something but I’m not sure what.

“We need to watch him more closely,” she states and I am confused as to who she is talking about. 

“Who? Joffrey? You can watch him but Robert told me he is sticking four guards on him with orders not to let him out of their sight.” 

“I wasn’t talking about the Prince,” she says slowly and I now know who she is referring to. 

“Cat…” I start exasperated but she cuts me off. 

“No he is up to something. He has wormed his way into the good graces of the King after upstaging the prince twice after he manipulated Robb into telling the King that he is better than him. And not only that, did you forget that he ruined the only chance Sansa had at becoming Queen,” she says forcefully. 

“That is not true, are you kidding me?” 

“It is true, it is in his nature.” 

“No it is not!” 

“What other possible explanation is there for Robb telling the King that Jon is better?” she asks angrily. 

“I don’t know, maybe because it is true,” I say sarcastically but she just rolls her eyes.

“It is not true! Robb beats him every time! And it was Robb who killed three Wildlings in the forest not Jon. Jon could barely manage one.” 

“Things are not always as they seem Cat,” I say quietly, trying to respect the boy's wishes of keeping the story in place. 

“And what do you mean by that?”

“I mean that just because _you_ want something to be true, doesn’t mean that it is.”

She huffs in disagreement and I have lost my patience with conversation. 

“Look I don’t know where all this distrust of Jon is coming from all of sudden but we don’t have time for it right now. I have some things to take care of, and I know you need to get ready for the feast.” 

I am in no mood for her to argue and she hears it in my voice as she walks out of the room without another word. 

I finish the few things that need my attention and then stand to make my way to the feast. 

As I walk, I start to think about some of the things Cat had said. 

All of it was ridiculous but what truly was confusing me and taking up so much of my much needed brain power was where in the hell was all this coming from? 

I mean know she never liked Jon but we seemed to have reached a middle ground of tolerance, but ever since Dany arrived a few weeks ago, it is like her Jon insecurity has roared up again.

I shake my head of my troubling thoughts as the sound of the feast comes into my ears. 

There are a good number of people already there and dancing in the center of the room when I arrive, the King in the center of it all. 

Not having near enough energy to engage I make my way over to Benjen who is sitting at the high table. 

“Ahh brother I was beginning to wonder if I should have someone go retrieve from that mountain of paperwork you call an office,” he says in jest as I approach. 

“I’m not sure if I would rather be here or there right now to be honest,” I say to him sitting down.

“Feasts and parties never were really your thing were they?” he says with a smile. 

“No but neither is paperwork. Though at least in my office I could fall asleep without it being too much of a problem,” I say and he laughs. 

We soon fall into easy conversation as he entertains me with tales from the wall and how all his Night’s Watch brothers are faring. Everyone from Mormont, Half Hand, and even Maester Aemon.

Soon Benjen runs off to do who knows what and I am left to simply watch over the proceedings in front of me. 

It is not as ruckus and free flowing as the first feast a few nights ago but everyone seems to be relaxing from the tension that has captured the castle. 

Robb is off to the side watching everything, I see Cat approach and try to talk to him but after a few seconds he gets up from his seat and walks away from her. 

_What is going on there?_

I shake my head of the question, determined to put some brain power to it later. I scan the area around me and am surprised to see the King actually sitting down in his designated spot at the front of the room a few seats down from me. 

Across the room the Queen is making her way across the room towards the King at the high table. She has avoided him as much as possible in all social situations except for the basic necessities. But now she is approaching him directly with a small sly smile on her face that is making me nervous. 

I watch as she slides into the seat next to him and he drunkenly turns his attention to her. I can see her talking to him but I am not close enough to actually hear what they are saying to one another. 

They talk for a couple of seconds before Robert gets a big grin on his face and he stands from his seat. Although he is wobbling a bit from all that he has consumed tonight, he still appears mostly okay. 

For his standards anyway.

Definitely not even close to the drunkest I have ever seen him. 

“Attention!” he bellowed loudly to everyone as he stands from his seat. 

It takes a few seconds for everyone to quiet down so I look over at Cersei and she has a sly, triumphant smile on her face. 

_She is extremely impressed with herself._

“I need the Kingslayer and the Bastard to come forward!” 

_Why does he need Jon?_

I feel panic start to rise in me but I do my best to keep my face neutral. I glance at the Queen again and she is looking at me this time with menacing eyes to match her sly grin. 

I look around the room and see Jaime Lannister start to slowly make his way towards the front of the room. 

But no sign of Jon. 

_Where is Jon?  
_When Jaime reaches the front and there is still no sign of Jon, murmurs start to go up around the room as people search for him. 

“Ned!” 

The King’s call brings my attention to him at once. 

“Where is your Bastard?” he shouts at me irritated. 

_He is far from a bastard Robert._

“I do not know Your Grace,” I say honestly. 

I look down at Robb hoping he will know but he just shrugs at me. 

People continue to look around the room until a small voice pipes up. 

“Last time I saw him he was outside practicing on the Dummy,” I hear Arya say clearly. 

People turn toward the voice that is seated right next to Robb and look at her in confusion. 

“Why is he not here?” Robert asks looking to the people around him for an answer but they all have none. 

“Will you go and retrieve him Arya?” I ask and she just hops up from her place at the bench and walks towards the back door of the hall.

People return to small side conversations as Arya leaves but I do not engage as I look at the Queen again. 

She is still sporting the very pleased look on her face and my worry and panic grows. 

“Do you know what is going on?” Robb asks, coming and sliding into the seat beside me. 

I let out a deep sigh and rub my forehead hoping it will relieve some of the stress and panic that has filled it. 

“No,” I say simply and Robb leans back in the chair beside me with worry clear on his face. 

_I don’t know what Cersei has planned, but I’m quite sure I’m not going to like it._

* * *

**Arya POV**

Why did the King even need to come here?

All of these people are just making the place crowded and causing trouble all over. 

Everything was better before, when it was just us, plenty of space, plenty of freedom with less restrictions and less people. 

The worst of the newcomers had to be the sniveling rotten mess who tried to rape Sansa. 

Who also is somehow the Prince and heir to the throne. 

_Gods help us when he is in charge of everyone_

I mean I do not mind Myrcella and Tommen. In the brief amount of time I have spent with them, talked to them, and listened to what they are saying, they seem perfectly nice. It is just unfortunate that their older brother definitely is not. 

I just wish that there weren’t any Lannisters. 

I thought it was too crowded when it was just the Stark people here, now that has been doubled. 

It does not help that most of them are arrogant and irritating. 

Like their presence here is a gift to us all. 

I mean, I have never gotten along with Sansa that well. 

Or at all. 

But even her, at her _worst, is_ better than them.

And it was no secret she really got on my nerves.

But I still cared about her. 

I mean she’s my sister. 

She may be up tight, rude to Jon, and narrow minded but she is still my sister and I love her. 

Plus like Father says, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.

Having Dany around these past few weeks has helped. 

She has become sort of the go between for me and Sansa since she is able to talk to both of us without too much trouble. And she has helped me see things, more specifically Sansa differently. 

And Sansa’s nagging and insistence on me being ladylike have seemed to decrease since Dany showed up. Now I’m not sure why exactly that is happening but I’m sure it is not a coincidence. 

And it made being around Sansa more tolerable because I didn’t feel like I was always having to defend myself, my wants, and my decisions to her.

Now I just have to defend them to Mother. 

And when the dust had settled in the hallway and it had been just me and her in her room, I did not know what to do. I wanted to be reassuring but that has never been my strong suit, especially with Sansa. I wanted to know what happened because Jon was in danger but she was clearly not in a state to talk about it. 

Even I realized that and I’m not known for picking up on emotions. 

But there were two things I did know. 

One, I was scared and angry that this had happened to her. 

And two, I realized that all of our differences and fighting really didn’t mean that much. When it came to us versus them, it did not matter how much we were different, we were family. And that was enough.

I shake my head and continue my journey to the courtyard where Jon usually sets up his practice dummy. 

I had seen him on my way down from my room to the feast. I had decided to take the long way around to avoid the rush of heat and food and people that were waiting for me in the Great Hall. When I walked by, I was going to call out to him, but he seemed extremely focused so I let him be this time. 

As I approach him now, he seems to still be quite focused, but this time I don’t have a choice to leave him be. 

The king wants him. 

For what I’m not sure. 

But I know it is probably not good.

“Jon,” I call out but he doesn’t hear me the first time. 

I let a huff then raise my voice. 

“JON!” I yell and he jumps in surprise, which makes me laugh. 

“Seven Hells Arya, you scared me,” he says, catching his breath. 

“I can see that,” I say, smirking and he gives me an unimpressed look. 

“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be enjoying the feast?” he asks with a small smile on his face since he knows I hate those things. 

“The King is looking for you, and since I was the only one who seemed to know where you are Father sent me to get you.” 

“Why does the King want me?” he asked both curious and concerned. 

“No idea. He just said he wanted you and the Kingslayer.”

He gets a deeper look of worry before nodding his head. 

“Alright, let me clean up then I will be right there,” he says. 

“Jon, the King seemed irritated you weren’t there already and the most powerful person in the world is not normally the kind of person you want to keep waiting.” 

He chuckles. 

“You're probably right, I can come back out here later, let’s go,” he says and we start our trek back to the Great Hall. 

We walk in stoic silence as we make our way back to the Great Hall, while there is one question that I’m sure is running through both of our minds. 

_Why in the world does the King want to see Jon?_

The walk back seems to fly by as we appear at the door before it seems like we should. 

Jon opens the door for me, ever the chivalrous gentlemen, and I walk in ahead of him. 

There are many small conversations that are happening around the hall but all seem to stop as Jon walks in behind me. 

Robb is the first person I see as I walk in and he looks over at us from his seated position next to father before he turns back towards the King, standing as he does so. 

“Your Grace,” he says, earning the King’s attention. “Jon Snow has arrived.” 

I move forward next to Robb and Father as Jon moves around the table, his head down, looking at the ground. 

“Well tell him to come here!” the King shouts.

I look back up at Jon as he picks up the pace of his walk, coming to stand next to the Kingslayer, head still down. 

“Where the hell were you boy?” the King asks Jon. 

Jon waits a beat before answering. 

“I do not enjoy crowds, your grace,” he says simply. 

The King lets out a dismissive groan before standing from his chair once again. 

“Now I know that these past few days have not been as smooth as we have wanted them to be,” he starts. 

_That’s a bit of an understatement, your son tried to rape Sansa._

“So I think the best way to start mending fences is to have a nice friendly little contest,” the King continues as I become more confused as to what he is planning. 

I look up at Father and Robb and they both have worried looks on their faces. 

“In that spirit there will be a tournament held in three days’ time, a two-person battle between the Kingslayer of Casterly Rock and The Bastard of Winterfell.”

A series of huge roars spring up around the room but I am left confused.

_What does that even mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know! 
> 
> Moving forward I am going to make a point to be better about responding to all of your comments! 
> 
> See you next week!


	17. The Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb reacts to the King's latest announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I hope you all had a great week! Here is another chapter! Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Here's to hoping I have no stupid mistakes in this chapter! ;)

**Robb POV**

The room is a huge cacophony of cheers and roars around me but I am not paying attention to any of them. 

All the people in the hall voicing their approval and I just watched Jon. 

Jon had a shocked look on his for a few seconds before his stoic mask dropped back into place. I chanced a glance over at the Kingslayer and he had a smug grin on his face that I have come to expect from him.

The one that makes just about everyone in the North want to punch him. It seemed like every time I looked at him, he was wearing that same smug look. A look that just screamed that no one could touch him. 

_Does that stupid look ever leave his face?_

I look back at Jon and then up to the King who is wearing a huge triumphant smile on his face at the roars of approval from the crowd. 

“He can’t seriously do this can he?” I ask Father who is standing next to me. 

“He is the King, he can do whatever he wants,” Father says though I can tell his thoughts are elsewhere. 

“Hasn’t Jon been through enough lately! He shouldn’t have to do this!” I say emphatically. 

Father looks at me and he has the same concern in his eyes that I’m sure mine do, though his look far calmer than I feel right now. 

“Robert!” Father calls and the King looks over at me. “Is this completely necessary?” 

_Necessary? No it is not necessary at all!_

“Oh come on Ned! This will be good for everyone! You still are just a party pooper over there aren’t you!” he said with a laugh. 

I am about to raise an objection but Father grabs my wrist and I look over at him giving an extremely irritated look.

_Jon should not be put in danger because the King is bored._

But the look in Father’s eyes leaves no room for debate and I take a step back but my tense posture does not relax. I glance to my right and see Arya still standing there and she has a shocked and scared look on her face. 

“What do you say gentlemen?” the King asks excitedly. 

I look worriedly at the two people standing in front of him and feel a familiar dread fill my stomach. 

“It would be an absolute honor to represent my family, Your Grace,” the Kingslayer said with a huge smile on his face. 

As he speaks his affirmation a huge chorus of roars come up from the Lannister people around the hall. 

When the people quiet down the King turns to Jon. 

“And you?”

Jon’s eyes look up from the ground and at the King for a second before he shoots a glance over towards us, more specifically Father. It takes a second, but I see out of the corner of my eye Father reluctantly nods his head and Jon looks back up at the king. 

_He is not doing this._

I know I am wrong but I can’t help but almost yell, out to try and stop Jon, but luckily my brain stops me, but just barely. 

“It would be an honor as well, Your Grace,” comes Jon’s reply and with it the entire hall erupted in another round of cheers. 

“Excellent!” the King says. “I’m three days time we will hold this bout in the courtyard. There will be no killing on this! I will not have this cascade into a further debacle. This will be a fight to see who can get the other to yield or knock the other to the ground first. The first one of you to do so 5 times will win but when someone gets knocked down, you will give them time and room to get up. Is that understood?” 

“Yes Your Grace.” they both say. 

“Perfect! Now someone bring me some more wine!” the King bellows and everyone disperses and rejoins the feast. 

The Kingslayer retreats to the opposite wall, still wearing the same grin, but Jon made a beeline for the door opposite of us and disappeared out the door. 

I turn to Father to say something but a smaller voice beats me to it. 

“Is Jon going to have to fight him?” Arya asks more in disbelief than in actual curiosity. 

“Unfortunately yes,” Father says looking down at her. 

“That’s ridiculous! What if he gets hurt?” she asks with worry in her voice. 

“He will be fine Arya,” Father says. 

“You can’t know that,” she says challengingly looking up to Father. 

When no one speaks for a few seconds Arya breaks eye contact first. 

“I’m going to go find him,” she says definitively and walks out the door she had brought in. 

Father lets out a sigh before sitting back into his chair. 

“You have to talk the King into calling this off,” I almost hiss at him sitting as well. 

“I can’t do that Robb,” he says and I look at him like he is crazy. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t like this anymore than you do Robb. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t like. This is one of them. Whether we like it or not trying to back out of this match now would just reflect poorly on all of us.

“Is the threat of our reputation being damaged really worth Jon’s life?” 

“He will be fine, you heard the King. Jon may get injured in the fight but his life will not be in danger.”

“You do know that he is facing the Kingslayer right? And I have to remind you Jon is still not back to his full self after the Wildling attack? He hides it but his ribs still bother him with every breath he takes,” I say incredulously. 

“You don’t have to remind me of my sons near death experience Robb. The Kingslayer agreed to the rules as well Robb,” he reminds me and I’m getting very tired of this conversation. 

“Yeah, because Jaime Lannister is world renowned for keeping his word.” 

With that I get up and walk out of the hall not wanting to be confined to those four walls anymore. 

_What is it with Jon? Trouble just seems to follow him around._

I better find him.

I start to walk towards where I found him the last night before the Lannister arrives, walking faster than I normally do. My nervous energy is being put to good use. 

As I approach the courtyard, I see Jon standing on the opposite side facing away from me striking at the dummy with the same speed as I have come to expect from him recently. 

I stand and watch him for a few moments, enjoying how at home he seems to be right now. No one around, just him and the dummy in front of him. 

He has always been the exact opposite as me when it comes to people. 

Where I love them and want to be around them as much as I can, he prefers to be alone and away from the hordes of people if he can manage it. 

It is why we work.

He never wants to talk and I never shut up.

As he seems to slow his movements down for a second I decide to make my presence known. 

“I think at some point they should move your bed out here. Make the walk a lot shorter.”

I seem to startle him slightly but he turns to me with a small smile but a cautious look on his face, like he is afraid of what is about to happen. 

But I press on pretending to be unaware of his nervousness. 

“Although, I guess a bed out here would be impractical, the whole snow falling from the sky thing might make the whole idea of keeping the bed warm a little more difficult.” 

This earns a small chuckle from him and he turns and puts down his sword as he leans on a post nearby. 

“I should have expected you to come out here. Arya just left I should have guessed you were not too far behind,” he says with a small smile.

I lean on a post off to his left, hoping that not being directly across from me will make this feel less confrontational. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes, the sounds of the feast happening nearby the only thing disturbing the serenity of the night around us. 

While normally can’t stop talking the comfortable silence that surrounds the two of us seems too pleasant to break. 

But I knew it needed to be broken at some point. 

The hanging topic of the impending duel between him and the Kingslayer felt like a builder amongst us. 

He probably had already accepted it but it felt like if I spoke about it, the whole thing would become real. And I’m not ready for that. 

Jon could get seriously injured. 

I know the King ordered for nothing to happen but Jon is facing someone who killed a King, a horrible King yes, but a King he vowed to protect. 

And Father doesn’t seem to care about that at all and is just fine letting this happen. 

I let out a sigh breaking the silence and we look at each other. Jon though quickly looks back up at the sky above us, but I know that I now have to say something. 

“You know you don’t have to do this right?” I say looking at the Old Tower across the grounds. 

He lets out a small chuckle before looking back at. 

“And you know that I do,” he says noncommittally moving up from his spot on the post, grabbing the sword leaning against it. 

“Why do you seem okay with this? I mean you know who you’re fighting right?” I ask pushing off of the post I’m leaning on as he looks at me. 

“I know who I’m fighting Robb.” 

“Then why don’t you seem more...I don’t know… freaked out?” I ask, gesturing wildly now like I am known to do when I get amped up. 

He takes a few swings of sword through the air before dropping it to the side and turning to look at the sky above. 

“Because I don’t have time. Was I freaked out at first? Absolutely. But I knew I needed to get over that quickly because I only have so much time to prepare for one of if not the best swordsman alive. And I will need every second I can get if I want to have a prayer to even last five minutes against him. And freaking out about it does not help me prepare at all, it is just counterproductive.” 

He says all of it slowly and deliberately as he continues his gaze at the stars above as I just stare at him.

Jon has always been more even keeled and less tempered than me so it makes sense that he would be handling this better than me. And what he is saying does make sense. 

But I just can’t shake the feeling of…

I don’t know what to call it.

But it has filled me not only today but also in the forest a couple of weeks ago. As our wolves forcefully kept me relegated to the sidelines as Jon was beaten but the monstrous man. 

I wonder if it would be easier if I was the one fighting, because at least then I am in danger and can prepare for that. 

But this, all I can do is watch and not do anything to help.

_That's it!_

Helplessness. 

I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do to truly help make sure that my brother makes it through this. 

Just hope and faith. 

Jon looks over at me breaking his endless staring contest with the sky and gives me a small reassuring smile. 

“I will be fine Robb.” 

“You don’t know that,” I say, feeling my voice breaking slightly. 

Now it is his turn to let out a sigh. 

“Your right I don’t. But I do know one thing.”

He pauses so I look up at him. 

“I’ll get back up again. Nothing has kept me down so far and I’m willing to bet that won’t change.” 

_What if it does?_

The thought is unwelcome but charges to the front of my mind anyway. 

But I look into his eyes and they hold an honest look and I find myself believing him. 

The worry does not leave but is not as prevalent as it was. 

_He’ll get up again._

“Well, if there is anything I can do to help you prepare over the next couple of days, let me know. I know I’m not nearly as good as the Kingslayer but if you need a live dummy, you’re looking at one,” I say hoping to lighten the mood a little and he smiles at me in return. 

“In more ways than one,” he says and the sarcastic comment catches me off guard as I break into a fit of laughter. 

That is something Theon would say, not something you would hear from Jon. 

When we come down from our laughing high, he looks at me again. 

“I appreciate that Robb, I will definitely take you up on that.” 

“Good,” I say with a smile back. “Now It is high time I should be getting to bed. You should too.” 

He scoffs, turning away from me. 

“I wish,” he says sadly. “My room is too close to the Great Hall for me to sleep with all that ruckus going on in there.” 

_His god damn room._

I don’t know why he didn’t get put in the family wing years ago where he is supposed to be. 

Of course I know why he isn’t up there and who is responsible for it but it is still ridiculous. 

“Sorry you have to deal with that,” I say honestly. 

“It’s not your fault,” he says turning back to the dummy behind him. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry,” I say back. 

“It really isn’t that big of a deal Robb,” he says defensively. 

His walls that had been down moments ago were clearly back up. 

“It wouldn’t be a deal at all if your room was where it should be,” I say in anger, more towards the world than to just Jon. 

Jon shrugs and lands a few hits on the dummy. 

“One of these days we’ll kick Theon out of his room and put you in there. Set him up in the Winter Town brothel. He’d be happier that way anyway,” I say with a laugh and it even earns a chuckle from Jon.

“No it’s alright, it really is not that big of a deal. I mean how often do we have feasts around here.” 

He gives me a smile as he says this. 

But it is not a real smile. 

It is his fake smile. 

The smile does not quite reach the rest of his face other than his lips. 

He is trying to make me feel better. 

Always more concerned about others than himself. 

I think about calling him on it but I am too tired to get into that conversation right now so I let it slide. 

For now. 

“All right well don’t stay out here all night,” I say with a smile moving towards my room. 

“Good night Robb,” he says, turning back to the dummy. 

“Night Jon,” I say and make my way up the stairs. 

It occurs to me that I should probably stop by Dany’s room and let her know, although I wouldn’t be surprised if Arya ran and told her already. 

Arya has grown remarkably close to the Targaryen since her arrival and seems to find every excuse to go and talk to her. 

_That could also be her hatred for being around people too._

I arrive at the door in the middle of the hall and knock forcefully on it.   
“It’s Robb,” I call out so she knows she can open it. 

She opens the door and she already has a deep worry in her eyes.

_So Arya has been here._

“Is it true?” she asks before I can even get fully in the room or the door shut behind me. 

I look at her not wanting to give her the answer she is dreading but my hesitation is answer enough. 

“How could anyone let this happen! Letting Jon face Jaime Lannister. I mean what the--”

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” I say, cutting her off before she gets too lost in her tirade. 

“Don’t tell me to calm down! Jon is going to die and you want me to calm down?” she asks as her hands start to gesture wildly the more amped up she gets.

“We don’t know that he is--” 

“We don’t not know it. No matter what the King says. The _Kingslayer_ isn’t known for his loyalty.” 

_The fact that I made an identical argument not long ago is not lost on me, but I have had my time to be irrationally angry at the situation. Now I it is my turn to be the rational one._

I look her straight in the eyes and take a step closer to her. She takes a small step back but continues to look up at me, but now with a small amount of panic in her eyes.

“Look I don’t like this situation any more than you do. Believe me I had the exact same reaction you did. And if I had the choice of stopping this or fighting in Jon’s place, I would take it but I don’t! So all I can do is do what I can to help him and trust that Jon will get back up again.”

She takes a step towards me and hardens her eyes in a way I have not seen her do before. 

“And what if he doesn’t?”

The question is one I do not have a good answer to and she knows it. 

I disconnect our eye contact and look over at the fire crackling next to us.

“I don’t know,” I whisper out and she gives a grunt in dismissal before turning and sitting on the bed. 

I rub my head and collapse onto the chair behind me. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes. It is not a comfortable silence but a thinking silence.

Neither of us know what to say next but know that that wasn’t the end of the conversation. 

To my surprise, it is Daenerys who speaks first. 

“Sorry I kind of lost it on you there. I mean he is facing _Jaime Lannister._ You know how he got his nickname and now Jon is having too… huh. I’m just- I’m just worried is all,” she says softly, not looking at me.

“No it’s okay. I actually kind of liked seeing that fiery Targaryen temper for the first time,” I say with a smile and she lets out an embarrassed laugh. 

“Oh shut up,” she says with a light laugh. 

“No I’m serious! I mean there was a second there where I thought you might throw me in the fire, but then I was like I’m too big for that thing it's not practical,” I say and she laughs cutting the tension in the room. 

“Yeah because it was the logistics of throwing in the fire that was preventing me from burning you to death. If only I had a bigger fireplace, dang!” she says sarcastically and I laugh in response. 

_She is way more fun than any of my other two sisters. Neither are able banter sarcastically like she can._

Once we stop laughing a silence falls again for a few seconds. 

“Look, I know you're worried and I am to, but Jon is tough. I mean he proved that in the forest, didn’t he?” 

“Yeah he did,” she says her mind clearly thinking back to the fight in the forest for a few seconds. 

“He’ll be fine,” I say out loud but this time it is more to convince myself more than her. 

We sit in silence once more but this time it is much more comfortable than the last two. I watch her stare into the fire and the deep concern has still not left her features. 

_It’s not easy watching someone you love being threatened._

Soon I feel my eyes start to get drowsy and I know it is time for me to head to bed. 

“Well, this chair is comfy but not as much as my bed so I’m going to head there. Good night 

Dany,” I say wand she gives me a friendly smile. 

“Night Robb,” she says and with that I close the door behind me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did! I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Next up we will get Jaime's reaction to the announcement! 
> 
> See you next week!


	18. The Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reacts to the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I hope you are having a great weekend and enjoy this latest chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I do!

**Jaime POV**

The feast is still in full swing all around me but more people are starting to teeter off to bed ever since the big announcement. 

_Oh god, that was not what I expected._

It is not like I’m worried about the fight itself. 

I mean the boy was good in the yard against Joffrey but he is not as good as me. 

_Not many are though._

It was clear the boy was just as shocked by what Robert had demanded as I was. But he seemed to handle it well keeping a firm grip on his reaction. 

In fact, if it wasn’t for the startled little breath he took as the big oaf said it, I don’t think I would have been able to tell he heard the King at all. 

When he had looked over at the Stark section of the high table it was abundantly clear they were unhappy. 

Lord Stark kept his face unfazed and neutral but the Younger Stark had barely contained anger on his face and the youngest daughter next to them looked angry, confused, and worried. 

I kept my same smug grin I have become known for on my face, but in my head, I was fighting a guilty feeling. 

I mean this boy was going to be embarrassed because the King felt bored and Cersei was jealous, I mean that was hardly fair to the boy at all. 

_I mean how fair is the world really though?_

If the world were fair, I wouldn’t be the infamous Kingslayer and my mother would still be alive. But all of this nonsense seems unnecessary and just stupid. 

_What is Cersei thinking? The boy has done nothing to do with this._

I feel an increasingly familiar feeling of annoyance toward her rise in my stomach as she yet again seemed to let her own paranoid crazy delusions of Lannister perfection be in complete control of her actions. 

It is times like this that I like to have Tyrion around. 

He may make inopportune comments at times, okay maybe too often, but at least he is someone I know I can talk normal, sensical things out without fear of being judged or repercussions coming from my words. 

That used to be true with Cersei as well. 

But that is becoming less and less true everyday it seems. 

“You're going to kill it, Ser Jaime!” another drunk Lannister guard slurs to me. “It won’t last more than 5 minutes!” 

I flash the same smug grin I have come to perfect at him and he stumbles drunkenly away.

I have been getting that same comment from everyone and they are starting to get extremely annoying. 

And something is telling me that it might be a better fight than people think. 

I don’t know why I think that. 

But the thought wouldn’t leave my head. 

I have no doubt I am going to win. 

I don’t lose. 

I will most likely win pretty convincingly. 

But when the bastard had eyed me as the King awaited an answer his eyes didn’t show what I expected. 

It wasn’t fear like there is sometimes. 

It isn’t reverence in his eyes. 

It isn’t anger either.

It isn’t even begrudging respect like I get most often. 

No, they just analyze me. 

Cool. 

Calm. 

Calculating.

And that means this will be slightly harder than normal.

I usually have a mental advantage over the people I’m facing, especially kids his age. 

Except for the elite few, almost all are in some way affected by having to face the famous ”Kingslayer” so going in I have a mental advantage over them. 

But that doesn’t seem to be the case with him. 

I shake out of my thoughts and look around the room. 

The King is stumbling around in yet another drunken stupor but Cersei is moving away from her seat and towards her room with her four guards surrounding her. 

_I need to talk to her._

I need to know what in the world is going on and what made her think this was a good idea. 

I push off of the wall I was standing sentry on and after a few seconds, too let her get a small head start, begin walking off in the direction of her room. 

I had watched as she for the first time in a long time had moved _towards_ the King in the middle of a feast instead of away from him. And as soon as she sat next to him, I knew nothing good would come from it and I was right. 

The King was right that this spectacle could bring our families closer, but the more likely scenario is that it will drive the already huge ass wedge between us deeper.

I see the room ahead of me and I don’t even need to say anything as the guards open the door for me. 

As I enter Cersei is sitting facing the door on the bed with a smug smile on her face. 

Like she was expecting me. 

“What do you think?” she asks with a pleased smile and I let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“What the hell were you thinking getting him to do that?” I ask annoyed, not quite too angry yet. 

“I thought you would be happy, a chance to show everyone again how great you are. You always have been a showman Jaime,” her tone slightly seductive. 

But instead of it driving me crazy with lust like it sometimes does, it drives me crazy with annoyance. 

_How is she thinking like that at a time like this?_

“Cersei this is a bad idea, we just reached a tolerable tension here after the whole debacle you caused the first night, why jeopardize that? Are you _trying_ to start a war while we’re here?”

When she can see I am actually irritated her small sultry smile falls and anger takes its place.

“These barbarians here think they can sit in their ugly castles and fields of white emptiness and be better than us. Well, it is high time they get taught that they are wrong.”

“And me beating one of the Stark children in a pretend fight accomplishes that?” I ask incredulously.

“He is not a Stark. He’s a Snow,” she says defensively. 

“You think they see that difference?” 

“It doesn’t matter! It is who he is! And this bastard is the one who savagely beat your son earlier today. I thought you would welcome the opportunity to teach him his rightful place.” 

_I’m not having that fight again._

“Plus,” she continues. “If it so happens you get an opportunity to pick up where the King slacked off, I think you should take it.”

_Okay now I’m angry._

“You want me to kill him? That's what this whole thing is about?” 

“He deserves it. He beat our precious baby boy while everyone watched on and cheered, and everyone is to incompetent to deal with it, so I am!” she says with deep anger in her voice. 

_She wants to kill an innocent boy because he was better than her son and she is to blind to see it, while she starts a war in the process._

Why do I still love her? 

And that is the irritating part because I do still love her deeply despite all this shit. 

_Curse the gods for making me love her._

“I’m not going to kill the boy Cersei,” I say and she huffs in frustration. 

“If you will not protect your family, then I guess I will have to do it myself,” she says cryptically which I do not like. 

“Starting a war with Starks does not protect this family Cersei! In fact I think war is the exact opposite of protection if you ask me.” 

“Well no one did, now get out.” 

I let out a huff and exit the room growing tired of her delusional thoughts. 

I stomp towards my room not far away, trying to get my angry energy out before I reach my bed so maybe I can get some restful sleep tonight. 

But as I approach my room, my brain is still going a mile a minute. Still going over the day in my head, trying to wrap my head around everything. Knowing I am not going to be sleeping with my mind still running so fast, I decide to walk around the castle for a little while. 

I don’t entirely know where I am going but I’m sure I can find my way back, this castle isn’t as complicated as some castle layouts can be. The layout really is quite simple. 

_Just like the Starks._

I pass the Great Hall and the sound coming from inside the room has greatly decreased as I assume most of the people have stumbled off to bed by now. 

I do appreciate the high number of lanterns that are along the walls that make it so I can still see very clearly, even at this time of night. 

I continue my walk and I can feel my body and mind start to tire, but just as I start to think about turning around, I hear a small rhythmic clink not too far away. The sound is a sword striking a dummy. That sound is so ingrained in my brain I will know it when I’m dead. 

But it isn't the sound that catches my interest. 

_Who could possibly be swinging at a dummy right now?_

I move towards where the sound is coming from and soon come upon a small, out of the way courtyard.

If it weren’t for the lone lantern with a very small dancing flame near the swinger, I do not think I could see anything that was not two feet in front of me. 

I am both surprised and impressed by the sight in front of me. 

The bastard is the source of the small sound. I don’t even know how he can see let alone swing the sword so deliberately as he is right now. 

I mean I am still better but this fight will definitely be more competitive than people think. 

More than I thought. 

As I watch him swing it occurs to me that there is something vaguely familiar about the way he swings. I have seen that style before. But the more I try to think about it the less the answer seems to want to come. 

I feel my eyes start to droop slightly and the thought quickly leaves my brain as I decide it is probably time I find my way back to my room. 

After a few minutes of being turned around I am able to find my room and I quickly crawl into bed, and quickly I exhaustedly fall asleep. 

* * *

I do not get a restful sleep. When I awake the next morning I am still just as tired as I was the night before. I want to try to go back to sleep, but based on the amount of noise I can hear outside my room I know I need to get up and get moving. 

Just as I am finishing putting on my armor there is a knock at my door. 

“Enter,” I call as I finish strapping on my breastplate. 

I look up and see a hungover, as he usually is, Tyrion come walking slowly into my room. 

“I’m starting to think I should come to these feasts. Something interesting and possibly horrible seems to always come out of them,” he says with a smile which earns a small laugh from me. 

“So you heard,” I state. 

“It is the talk of the castle. The Kingslayer vs. the Bastard of Winterfell. The clash as ordered by the King himself. Though something tells me it was not all his idea,” he says asking me the implied question. 

“No it wasn’t, he ordered it at the behest of our wonderful sister,” I say sarcastically. 

“And why would she do this?” Tyrion asks calmly but I can tell he is surprised by the answer. 

“She hopes that me beating him will teach both him and by extension the Starks that we are superior,” I say standing from the bed as my statement earns a laugh from Tyrion. 

_He doesn’t need to know she wants me to kill the kid._

We walk out of the room and in the direction of breakfast. 

“Well, make it look good for a few minutes to entertain Robert and then hopefully you can end it with as little bloodshed as possible. Though I think it will be a harder fight than other people think,” Tyrion says which peaks my interest. 

“What makes you say that?” I ask as we head down the stairs, my thoughts going back to the bastard swinging confidently at the dummy last night. 

“Well the first night I happened upon him on my way to the feast. Before I made my presence known, I was watching him attack his dummy. I wouldn’t say he is nearly as good as you were at his age, but I don’t think he will go down easily. He’s a fighter.” 

I just simply nod in agreement

“Good to know,” I say as we enter the hall. 

When we enter, we see Cersei and the three kids seated where they have been every other day since our arrival and make our way towards them.

Joffrey is on one side of the table facing us looking down at his meal with Cersei next to him pushing her food around the plate. Tommen and Myrcella have their backs to us opposite of them. 

I move to sit next Joffrey on the far side as Tyrion approaches to sit in between his niece and nephew. 

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” Tyrion asks, announcing our presence. 

He moves and hops in between the two small children who smile happily at him. 

I connect eyes with Cersei and she looks at me with silent anger for a second before going back to pushing her food around.

Tyrion entertains the kids next to him with stories about this and that and their light laughter makes me smile. 

_I never know whether to think of them as my kids or not. Yes, they are mine biologically but I did not raise any of them._

But either way, seeing them happy, smiling and laughing always fills me with joy. 

And joy seems to be in short supply these days. 

It isn’t until the meal is winding down that I am brought into the conversation. 

“Uncle Jaime?” 

Myrcella’s voice is nothing if not pleasant, but the small embedded reminder of what she calls me is an easy way to show how fucked up this situation is and it never fails to dampen my mood if only slightly. 

“Yes?” I respond smoothly with a smile. 

“Are you also leaving on the hunt tomorrow?” she asks with a smile. 

_Oh yeah that._

I think about it for a second before answering. 

“No I will probably stay back to train and prepare for the fight the next day,” I say to her with a smile. 

“Why do you need to prepare? Everyone knows you are going to beat him,” Tommen asks excitedly. 

“Overconfidence is the easiest way to find out you are not as good as you think you are,” I say to him repeating a sentence Arthur Dayne said to me all those years ago. 

“But you're excited right?” the boy asked with a big smile. 

“Absolutely,” I say and he smiles at me. 

It is pleasantly calm for an extremely quick second until Joffrey speaks up from his spot in between Cersei and me. 

“You shouldn’t need to prepare for him Uncle Jaime. He is a bastard. He is weak.” 

The boy's overconfidence is alarming considering he got his ass kicked by the bastard less than 24 hours ago. 

I meet eyes with Tyrion and he has a disbelieving smile on his face. 

No one speaks for a few seconds in shock until Myrcella breaks the silence. 

“But Joffrey, if he is weak, and he beat you yesterday, what does that make you?”

The question is naively genuine because she really is just curious. 

But Joffrey definitely won’t hear it that way. 

Tyrion is trying really hard to contain his laughter as I cringe at the question while Cersei gets an angry look on her face at the reminder. 

But her look is nothing compared to Joffrey’s who turned from disinterested to red hot angry in seconds. 

He tries to stand from the table and send what he is sitting on flying back in anger like he has done several times before. 

But unfortunately what he did not consider was that me and Cersei were sitting on the same bench so it did not go anywhere. 

So instead of standing in anger he just rams his knees into the table _really hard_ sending a loud painful groan out of his mouth drawing the attention of everyone in the hall. 

His face turns angrier and he stares down at Myrcella who is sitting back leaning behind Tyrion for protection with a horrified and frightened look on her face. 

He scrambles back and successfully stands behind the bench before finding his anger again as he looks at the table again.

“I am not weak!” he screeches looking directly at Myrcella and I flex my sitting stance slightly so I am ready to catch him if lunges for her.

“No one said you were weak darlin--,” Cersei starts reaching for his hand but as soon as she touches him which he revolts away from and storms out of the hall. 

The whole hall is looking over at our table but quickly pretends to resume their conversations as soon as Cersei wheels back around, her face barely containing the combination of fear, anger, and hatred she is feeling. 

“I’m sorry,” a small sad voice chokes up, clearly close to tears. 

I turn and see Myrcella as the owner of the voice and I immediately feel regret and sadness fill my body. 

“It is not your fault dear,” Tyrion says looking at her in the eyes. 

“Darling come here,” Cersei says with care and love in her voice as she comes around the table and walks into her mother’s hug. 

“It is not your fault darling. It is going to be okay sweetie,” She says softly in the young girl's ear. 

They stay like that for a few seconds until the girl steps back from her mom and wipes a few tears from her eyes. 

“Why don’t we finish eating,” Cersei says and she shakes her head indicating yes and moves to sit back down. 

The table is quiet for a few minutes as no one really knows what to say. Myrcella is still clearly upset but I do not know what to say to make her feel better and I wish more than anything that I did. 

I never want to have to have her feel this way. 

It makes me literally hurt to see her so sad and helpless. 

Soon everyone finishes and Tyrion stands from the table turning to Myrcella. 

“I am headed to the library to find an interesting story about the infamous White Walkers. Would you like to join me?” he asked 

Myrcella smiles and nods getting up and following her uncle out of the hall. 

I stand just after they are out of sight wanting to get moving. 

“I better go get training,” I say flimsily and move out of the hall. 

My body this morning had been tired and laggy and is now full of nervous energy. 

I am not exactly sure what specifically I am nervous about but I know that I should be and I am grateful that I have the excuse to train. 

It always has been semi therapeutic for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Let me know how I did!


	19. The First Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gives Arya another sword lesson but makes a pitstop on the way to retrieve her. Also Sansa thinks it is high time she thank her savior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week! Another chapter!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I do!

**Jon POV**

I continue my purposeful stride as I walk towards the part of the castle that the vast majority of my time has been spent at. 

It has been two days since the Kings announcement at the feast and that means today is the last day I have to prepare. 

_Prepare to lose more like._

The fight is going to take place in the morning so I will have to get up earlier than normal to make sure I’m all good to go. 

I have never been a morning person. 

I step into the yard and move to the small closet just off to the side where the dummy I use is kept. 

This courtyard is more isolated and closed off, with substantially less foot traffic than the others, so it is much better than for me to work. 

I don’t like people watching me train, it just feels creepy to have their eyes boring into the back of my head. 

I place the dummy where it normally is and pull my sword from its scabbard. 

I look at the glistening coming off of the newly forged steel with the sunshine beaming off of it. 

I twirl it in my hand as I feel a sense of pride and joy rush through my body. I love having a sword I can display proudly. 

I had been using an old random sword for a while now, never having a need for anything better but yesterday Robb and Father had surprised me with this new one saying it was high time for me to get a new one. 

One that wasn’t 20 years old. 

I had refused the sword at first. 

_That seems to be my default setting._

Something offers me something, say no. 

But before I could resist further, Robb grabbed my old sword and chucked it away not seconds before Father shoved the newest Winterfell sword into my hands. 

And it was perfect. 

It is lighter than my previous one, though not by much. And the balance of it is much better. 

I slice down on the dummy and the sword glides gracefully through the air as I swing, hitting the exact place I was aiming for. 

I swing at the dummy for a few minutes, zoning in on my target, not letting anything distract me. 

I had been trying to cut down the time in between my strikes over the past couple of days and I know that I’m getting a little faster, but still not anywhere near as good or as fast as Jaime Fucking Lannister. 

I just hope I don’t embarrass myself. 

And my family. 

And the North. 

That is my main goal. 

Just don’t let myself get just destroyed by him. 

Even though I probably will. 

I take a deep breath and continue to work the dummy for a little while. Placing the strokes exactly where I want them as fast as I can. 

Yesterday I hadn’t needed to spend much time on the dummy as the majority of my time was spent going against Jory and Robb. 

The only time I had used it was after they both had gone to bed. 

A live training partner is much better than a dummy any day, but unfortunately for me they both had to go on a hunt with the King. 

Father had asked if I wanted to come but I had decided against, thinking that my time was better spent preparing than wandering mutely around the forest with a bunch of people I don’t want to be around. 

So that meant that I had no training partner today. 

The good thing was with so many people out of Winterfell, I had given in and agreed to give Arya another lesson today. 

It would be a good distraction and break from swinging at the dummy for hours. But that wasn’t happening until around lunchtime when most of the people would be in the Great Hall. 

I walk over to where I put my water and take a long sip from it as I look over the courtyard. 

I am glad to see it empty but today is an unusually hot day and the sun is beginning to beat down on me. 

_As much as it can in the North._

I’m sure down south, this is nothing, but for me it is getting way too hot. I shrug off my leather jerkin and put it to the side before I get too hot. 

I step back up to the dummy and start swinging, narrowing my focus so the dummy is the only thing I am worried about. 

I don’t know how long I stood there hacking at the dummy but the next time I look up the sun is almost directly over my head and I know it is probably time for me to go get Arya. 

If I don’t go get her soon, she will probably come and attack me herself for making her wait. 

I move the dummy back to where I found it and grab my jerkin from where I tossed it earlier and set off in the direction of the Stark rooms. 

As I enter the hallway a thought occurs to me. 

_I should go and say hi to Dany._

I have not seen her in a couple of days. I mean she is never far from the front of my mind it seems like but it will be nice to see her and hear her voice again. 

Quickly deciding that Arya can wait a few more minutes I turn and knock on her door. 

“It’s Jon,” I call and she opens the door with a big smile on her face. 

Now I am not known for smiling but just seeing her, I can’t help the smile that naturally grows on my face in return.

She steps aside and I walk into the room seeing a book laid open on the bed and a toasty fire going in the hearth. 

“How do you have a fire going on a day like today?” I say to her and she lets out a light chuckle as I sit in the chair facing her bed. 

“You forget, I’m from Pentos Jon Snow. Even a warm day in the North is cold to me,” she says with a smile. 

“I could never live in weather where it was hot all the time. Give me snow over the sun any day,” I say. 

As she walks over to her bed, I notice her standing taller and her voice is full of more confidence than the last time I came to see her. She seems to be getting more confident and sure of herself every time I see her. 

Gone is the shy timid girl we met in the forest. 

“That is where you are wrong. The heat brings me energy. Dragons fare far better in the heat than in the cold.” 

“Good thing I’m not a dragon then,” I say and she lets out a laugh. 

“So what brings you up here? Not that I don’t love seeing you but your visits have been few and far between,” she says with a warm smile. 

But I think a glimmer of sadness in her eyes as she says it. 

“It is not for want of trying. But to answer your question I finally gave in and told Arya I would give her another lesson on how to properly use a sword. And since a whole bunch of people are away on a hunt today. We will have a much easier time not being noticed.” 

“So did you come here to tell me I am being excluded?” she asked seriously. 

_Oh shit!_

That is not what I meant. 

“No. no, no that’s not what I--,” I stammer out freaking out before I am cut off by laughter. 

I look up at her and she is laughing really hard. 

I feel the panic that had flooded me leave as quickly as it began as she continues to laugh.

“You should have seen your face,” she says in between laughs. 

When Theon or Robb has pulled pranks on me in the past I am left with shame and anger. But here watching her laugh and smile I feel a contentment spread through me and a smile come onto my face. 

_I like it when she smiles._

She comes down from her laughter and smiles at me as we lock eyes. 

We just stare at each other for a few seconds until she looks away and towards the fire. 

The energy in the room that not ten seconds ago was light and carefree, now feels charged and tense. 

I tear my eyes off of her and let my eyes simply drift around the room. We sit in silence for a few seconds until she speaks again. 

“Are you going to mention it at all or do I have to ask about it?” she asks, her voice now lower and full of worry. 

“What are you talking about?” I ask hesitantly and she scoffs in return. 

“You know what I’m talking about Jon,” she says and she is right. 

I was not going to mention it to her at all. Honestly, I was hoping she wouldn’t find out at all, which is ridiculous because there was no way none of my siblings was going to tell her.   
I was not going around flaunting the fact that I was in this fight to people but I didn’t mind people knowing. 

But for some reason she was different. 

She felt different. 

Like I was scared of what her reaction would be. 

Like I didn’t want her to know I was going to be injured or would be in danger. 

Like somehow me getting hurt would hurt her somehow. 

It was a weird feeling. 

But it was there nonetheless. 

And I wanted to protect her from whatever it was that might hurt her. 

I let out a sigh and look up at her. 

“Honestly, I was hoping you wouldn’t find out,” I say quietly and she gets an offended look on her face. 

“Why would you not want me to find out?” she asks, standing from her place on the bed. “Is it because you don’t think I would care?” 

“No, that’s not it,” I say back standing as well. 

“Because I do care.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why didn’t you want me to know?” she asks firmly. 

“Because…”

“Because why?” 

“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” I say firmly back to her. 

I let out a breath and she takes a small step forward. 

“You’re facing Jaime Lannister Jon, there is no way I am not going to worry. We have come too far for me not to worry about you.” she says softer. 

“I know,” I say and steps a little closer so she is about two feet away from me. 

The want to grab her and bring her lips crashing onto mine is strong, it is the only thing I want to do at this moment. 

But I know I can’t. 

What if she says no.

What if she rejects me? 

I couldn’t handle that. 

She means too much to me. 

And she deserves far better than me anyway. 

She deserves better than a weak bastard. 

I should step away from her. To save myself the pain of when she realizes she can do much better than me. 

But I can’t move away. 

Her eyes have me pinned.

“Just promise me one thing,” she says softly, taking another step forward. 

She is right in front me now. 

My brain is telling me what I should do. 

Run. 

But I don’t. 

And I don’t want to. 

I feel drawn to her. 

Drawn in by her smile. 

Drawn in by her laugh. 

_She can’t feel that same way I do._

The thought has been a common one ever since she rammed herself into the front of my thoughts. But despite my brain telling me that that is true over and over, it does not feel true. 

Looking into her eyes I believe anything. I can almost allow myself to believe the thought that she might be feeling the same pull I am.

My ears refocus when she talks again. 

“Don’t die.”

I nod my head slowly as I feel myself being pulled towards her. 

I am only thinking about her as she mirrors my action and we are inches from each other. 

Then our perfect bubble shatters. 

There is a hurried knock at our door and we both leap back from each other. 

_What just happened? Were we about to kiss? For real?_

The door is thrown open and I see Arya standing in the doorway. 

_Did she actually want to kiss me?_

Arya starts talking but my ears aren’t listening, my brain is still trying to catch back up. 

_No she didn’t. She just got confused or something._

Arya is looking at me expectantly but I look over at Dany and she has her eyes down and a small blush on her cheeks and I am reminded briefly again of the shy timid girl me and Robb met the first day she arrived here. This seems to be more shyness rather than timidness though. 

_Either way she is adorable._

Focus! 

“Jon?” I hear Arya say loudly and I startle a little bit. 

“Sorry Arya,” I say, shaking my head of my thoughts. ‘What were you saying?” 

“I said I looked all over for you but you were nowhere to be found! You promised we would do a lesson today!” 

I look over at Dany again and she is looking at me with a small knowing smile and I almost allow myself to get lost in her eyes again but I catch myself. 

_What would have happened if Arya had come just seconds later?_

I shove the thoughts aside and focus on Arya again. 

“Yes I did, let’s ahhh go do that, yes,” I say imploring my brain to get back in it. 

“Are you okay Jon, you seem a little flustered?” Arya asks and I glance at Dany, again, but this time she is hiding a laugh behind her hand. 

“No I’m fine, we were just chatting,” I say and Arya gives me a skeptical look but she soon loses interest and shrugs. 

“Let’s go then,” she says impatiently and I move towards the door after her. 

“Let me know how it goes Arya,” Dany says to the young girl who gives her a smile on the way out the door. 

I feel like I should say something but I have no idea what. 

“Good luck,” Dany says with a small smile. 

I am not sure if she means with Arya or with the fight, but I will take it either way. 

“Thanks,” I force out and start walking down the hall hearing her door close behind me. 

_Did I really almost kiss her?_

I cringe at the thought and shove it aside. 

I have to face Jaime Lannister tomorrow, I can’t be distracted. 

My brain knows that’s true, but I seem to be listening to my brain less and less lately. 

Whether that’s a good thing or bad thing, I have no idea. 

* * *

**Sansa POV**

I set my book aside and try to rub the weariness from my eyes. 

I have been reading a lot lately. 

Pretty much every day. 

Ever since…

I let out a deep breath and pick up my book again. 

_Don’t go there._

Not wanting to get bogged down by my thoughts again I pick up where I left off. 

I have been reading a lot about the Deep North during my isolation. 

I have always found the history of the North fascinating, ever since I was a little girl. But I never took time to learn about any of it because it was never what I was supposed to do. 

I had to learn how to be the perfect lady.

I had to learn how to represent my family well and marry a good husband. 

I had to be pleasant and sweet, not have my head buried in books all the time. 

That's not what was expected of me. 

That was what I learned. 

At least that's what my mother taught me. And Septa Mordane. 

And I believed it. Learned it. Worshipped it. 

And I was wrong. 

Princes were supposed to be gallant, brave, and charming. And bastards are supposed to be selfish, cowardice and mean. 

That was the truth. 

My truth at least. 

Jon would bring nothing but pain and destruction by him being here and getting close to him or even pretending he was a part of my family was wrong. 

I can remember a conversation I had when I was younger with Mother when I asked her if Jon was such a danger to us, why was he here. 

I can still see the smile on her face when I asked and she beamed at me before she responded. 

“Because he makes your Father feel guilty. He has worked his way into his brain to the point that he would never send Jon away. Jon is selfishly taking advantage of your Father's generosity. And that's the bastard way.”

I shudder now knowing that not only did I think that made perfect sense, I looked down on the people around me for not thinking that way.

Arya, Robb, even Father. 

Why would they choose to spend their time with someone who is guaranteed to hurt them? 

It made no sense to me. 

But then Joffrey happened. 

And my view of the world was rocked, in more ways than one. 

It was the Prince who was attacking me and the bastard protecting me. 

And that made no sense. 

Why did it happen that way? 

Why did it need to happen to me?

Why? 

I take another deep breath trying to calm my breathing again and rid my thoughts of the questions that have been threatening to drive me out of my mind. 

I set the book in my lap aside as it is obvious I’m too distracted to focus on it. 

I lean back and my head hits my pillow. 

I still don’t know why Jon protected me. 

I have always been nothing but hateful towards him. My thoughts have been consumed by thinking about how awful I have been to Jon my entire life when he clearly didn’t deserve it. 

I thought he did. 

But he didn’t deserve it. 

He is a bastard. 

Before that was all I needed to know about him. 

Now that didn’t seem to matter much. 

What Dany said to me just before the Royal Family arrived comes back into my mind again. 

_When he gets here, meet him, talk to him, watch how he interacts with everybody around him, look into his eyes and see what emotion is looking back at you when he looks at you, and decide then the kind of person he is. Only when you are able to see the whole picture. And hopefully he is everything your dreams can dream up. But don’t decide that that is true just because you want it to be true._

That conversation with Dany really opened my eyes. 

As soon as I looked at the Prince, I felt nervous. He looked at me like I was something to be won or conquered. Not a person. And soon the nervousness turned to fear. And that fear to terror. 

But when I thought about Jon, where once was unfounded anger and hatred now was guilt and appreciation. 

Jon has never been anything but nice and courteous to me but I was convinced it was just his facade. Just him waiting for the perfect moment to hurt me and my family. 

I was not going to give him that opportunity. I pretended I was not related to him in any way. 

So I treated him like he was beneath me. 

Then just when my terror had reached its peak, it was Jon who had risked his own life to protect me. 

He attacked a prince.

He risked his life for someone who had been nothing but mean and degrading to him. 

And I don't know why.

I let out a sigh as the question I must have asked myself a hundred times over the last week runs through my head again. 

I sit up from my position on my bed and look around my bare room. 

There are the books I have finished stacked in the corner next to the couple of chairs sitting along the wall with the roaring fireplace next to them. 

I look towards the door that has been my barrier from the world outside of it. 

Most of my time has been spent either reading or talking with Dany. We spent time trading stories from both our childhoods. I could tell there were some parts she avoided but for the most part she answered any question I dared to ask. 

Other than going across the hall to Dany’s room, I have not really left my room. I did go down once a few days ago to grab breakfast at Father’s behest, but the whole walk down the fear in my stomach only intensified as I looked nervously around every corner and the nauseous only grew as everyone’s sympathetic eyes followed me everywhere. 

It felt awful and exposing. 

But with every step I took, I dreaded one thing more than anything else. 

Having to see the one person I never want to see again. 

The Prince. 

I hate that he gets to walk around like nothing happened while I cower in this room because I am not strong enough to handle what happened to me and no one will punish him for doing it. 

I take another deep breath to slow the tears that had started to drip from my eyes. I wipe them away and look at the door again. 

I can’t stay here forever, I know that. 

And I am going to have to leave and stop hiding in here all day. And that day is probably coming sooner than I want it to. 

And the thought of leaving is getting easier to digest every day, and I think I am almost ready.

It is no secret that people think I have spent too much time here already. 

That seems to be the whole reason Mother comes up to see me is to try and get me to leave. And while I love her for caring about me and trying to help me take the “next step” as she calls it. It is getting annoying to have to tell her every time I am not ready and I will tell her when I am.

Everyone else drops hints that think I should leave but never push me, respecting that I am going at my own pace. 

Jeyne says that she misses me at sewing lessons. 

Father says he would have loved to have seen me at the latest meal. 

Robb jokingly says he has missed my judgmental eyes staring down at him during sparring.

They all wanted me to get up and get moving, but weren’t trying to shove me out the door. 

Mother was a different story. 

Whenever she would come, we would chat for a little while and I loved chatting with her. But it wasn’t long until the same 15 minute long debate started.

And eventually she gives up and leaves me to it. 

It is possible that I am overreacting to this whole thing, and I should have been up and out of this room a long time ago. Father though said to take my time and that there was no rush so I don’t get why she can’t understand that. 

My thoughts are broken by a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” I call and see Arya step into the room with a gigantic smile on her face. 

I’ve seen her smile before but never this wide. 

The huge carefree smile on my sister’s face brings a small one to mine. 

“What has you so happy?” I ask. 

“Oh! I had my sword lesson with Jon today! He taught me a bunch of the footwork and how to move to get yourself at the right angle to strike. Then he went over--,” I did not think she was going to stop for a while but she cut herself off and got a scared look on her face. 

“Sorry,” she says. “You don’t care about that stuff.”

“It’s okay Arya I asked,” I say to her, wanting her to continue. 

“No I know you don’t care about sparring or anything like that,” she says sadly. 

“Well you have to hear all the sewing talk every day, how is that different?” 

“I have to listen to that, I don’t get a choice,” she says semi bitterly and I know there is no real good answer to that. 

But before I can respond Arya gets another scared look on her face.

“What?” I ask. 

“No, nothing. It’s just,” she cuts herself off again and looks like she is trying to find the correct words to say. “You can’t tell Mother.” 

I am surprised as that was not what I expected. 

“Wha-- Why can’t I tell her?” I ask looking at her confused. 

“You can’t tell her Jon is giving me sword lessons. She would kill Jon if she found out,” she says like it is obvious. 

“Didn’t you clear this with Father before you started?” I ask and she shakes her head no. 

“No he said no when I asked, but I kept bothering Jon until he caved and agreed to give me some.” she said with a little bit of pride in her voice. “Dany joined us for the first one, but she wasn’t there today for obvious reasons.”

She is quiet for a second before she looks at me seriously again. 

“But you cannot tell Mother.” 

“You would get in trouble to you know,” I muse to her. 

“Not nearly as much as Jon would. Mother would try to get him kicked out Winterfell and sent to the Wall. Promise me you won’t tell her,” she says with a pleading look. 

She should not be doing something so blatantly against both Mother and Father's wishes, and I know a week ago I would not have hesitated to tell both of them. 

But that was then and this is now. 

“I won’t tell her Arya,” I say and she deflates in relief. 

“Thank you. I could not be the reason he got thrown out of here. I would not be able to handle it,” she says before looking around the room. Her eyes landing on the book I had been attempting to read earlier. 

“Hard at work again I see,” she says, picking up the book from off my bed and looking at the cover. “I don’t know how you or anyone could read a book this big.” 

I laugh at the comment as she opens the book and starts to read for a few seconds before slamming the book shut. 

“Nope not happening,” she says and I laugh again. 

We stay in silence for a few seconds before Arya inevitably starts talking again. 

“Are you coming to the fight tomorrow?” Arya asks. 

She looks at me expectantly but I look over towards the door again. 

“I don’t know,” I say to her. “I feel like I should. I mean I’m the reason this is happening I feel like I should be there.” 

“You are not the reason this is happening. The King is the one who ordered the fight not you,” Arya says dismissively. 

“But he never would have ordered it if my...situation hadn’t have happened,” I say not looking over at her still. 

She is silent for a few seconds before she talks again. 

“Even if that is true...” 

_It is._

“...it is still not your fault. What happened was not your fault,” she says with conviction. 

I want to believe her but it just feels untrue. I must have done something wrong for that to happen. 

But I look over at her and nod anyways not wanting to think about it. 

Jon is facing Jaime Lannister tomorrow. 

Arya had told me about it the night the fight was ordered and I have never seen her talk faster. It took a second but she finally calmed down enough to tell me what was going on and why she was so worked up. 

He should be fine. 

But it is not a guarantee. 

_And it’s because of me._

A thought pops into my head that has been through my head a couple of times this week, but unlike the other times, it is not something I want to do but need to do. 

_I need to see Jon._

I try to think about where I could find him but I have absolutely no idea. I don’t even know how to find his room. 

A feeling of shame and guilt builds in me again as the realization hits me. 

_Arya would know._

I look over at her and she is looking at the fire, seemingly lost in thought. 

Quiet, which is a little unsettling. 

“Arya,” I call to her and she breaks out of her thoughts and looks over at me. “I want to thank Jon and wish him luck for tomorrow but I don’t…”

My sentence just trails off as the rest of it hangs between us. 

“You don’t know where his room is,” she finishes and the irritation and disappointment is clear on her face and the guilt flares up again. 

She lets out a sigh and nods her head. 

“Are you sure you want to go down there. I mean it's past dinner and I’m sure there won’t be a ton of people but it won’t be empty either,” she says with care. 

“I know, but I think I have stayed here long enough,” I say with a confidence I’m not sure I quite believe but Arya seems to buy it as she shakes her head in agreement. 

“Alright let's go,” she says and she opens the door and exits. I stand from my bed and take two hesitant steps forward. 

Arya looks back at me expectantly and I take a deep breath and walk through the doorway and out into the hall. 

We turn and begin our trek towards wherever Jon’s room is. 

Arya has always walked fast and I have to quicken my strides to keep up with her. 

“I would be surprised if Jon is already in his room, my guess is he is still preparing for tomorrow. But it can’t hurt to show you where his room is. After that we can go find him and Robb.” 

“Robb?”

“Yeah, before I came up to see you and Dany the hunting party had just got back and Robb said he was going to find Jon as soon as he arrived in the courtyard.” 

We take another right and I notice that we are heading in the direction of the Great Hall and the Kitchens. As we continue to walk, I am very conscious of every person that walks past us. There are not that many people, which is good. I’m not sure I would love to be in a huge crowd right now.

But each step it feels like I am walking on ice. Like at any time I could fall straight through it. Lucky for me, Arya’s quick walking pace is helping me stay out of my head because I am having to put so much effort into keeping up with her that I don’t have time to think about anything else. 

When we pass the Great Hall, I have to assume we are getting close. I mean we are almost in the entire opposite part of the castle at this point. 

_Why is his room so far away? The room across from me was vacant for years?_

As we get closer to the kitchen, I feel my legs start to get a little tired from Arya’s brisk pace but she starts to slow down a little which I hope means we are getting close. 

Abruptly Arya stops and turns to a door on her left. I almost run into her but I am able to stop my momentum before I do. 

Arya knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for a response before she opens the door. 

“Arya wait--,” I call scared. 

_What if he is in there and not ready to receive us?_

I stand outside the doorway until Arya’s prideful voice rungs in my ears. 

“See, told you, not here.” 

I step up and walk into the room and my thought comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. 

“It’s so small,” I say shocked. 

There is an okay sized bed, a small trunk and a small piece of wood serving as a stool but that is it. It is maybe half the size of my room. 

Maybe. 

Arya nods sadly at my words and moves to leave the room. It takes me a minute to respond to her shoving me out the door as I am still looking around the room, thinking some magical part of the room will appear. 

I soon turn and walk out of the room and Arya shuts the door behind her. 

“So if he is not in his room, where is he?” I ask knowing that she will have the answer. 

“This way,” she says and we are walking again. 

I try to follow where we are going but I get a little turned around. I know we are heading back towards our rooms but that doesn't seem to be where we are going. 

Soon Arya turns away from the direction of our room and we head a little closer to the Godswood. Just before we get there, we turn and arrive at a small secluded courtyard. 

“I don’t think I have come to this courtyard before, I mean I knew it was here but…” I trail off. 

“There has never really been a reason to, I mean the only reason you come this way would be to get to the armory or the Godswood. And if you were to go to the Godswood, you wouldn’t come this way you would take the…” 

“bridge off the Great Hall,” we finish together. 

In the middle of the courtyard Robb and Jon are sparring, and not surprisingly neither of them have noticed us yet. 

There are a number of lanterns spread around them in a circle to help fight the increasingly less light that is in the sky. 

We walk closer but our presence remains unacknowledged. 

We watch for a few seconds before Jon gives Robb a hard kick to the chest and sends him to the ground pointing his sword down at him. 

“You must be getting tired their Snow,” Robb says with a laugh. 

“He still put you on the ground didn’t he,” Arya says which brings both sets of eyes over to us. 

I look at Robb who hops up from his place on the ground with a big smile on his face. 

“What are you two doing out here?” Robb asks brightly. 

I glance up at Jon instinctually but his eyes are on Arya. 

“We are just out for our typical evening walk Robb didn’t you know?” Arya says sarcastically, which earns a chuckle from Robb. 

Robb’s smile falls as he turns toward me, his face turning from happy to caring instantaneously. 

“How are you doing?” he asks me softly. 

“I’m doing better,” I say to him, which he smiles at. 

“Good,” he says before turning back to Arya. 

“So really, what are you guys doing out here?” Robb asks again. 

“Oh Sansa wanted to talk to Jon. I figured he wouldn’t be in his room but we went there first so she would know where his room is,” Arya states matter of factly as I cringe. 

My eyes instinctively find Jon’s again and he is looking at the ground. I may have a newfound appreciation for Arya recently, but she still struggles with subtlety that is for sure. 

My eyes go to Robb and I look at him with guilt in my eyes. I also hope he sees my pleading look, which luckily he does. 

“Alright, well let’s leave them to it then,” Robb says, moving to put his sparring sword down. “Jon, try to not stay up all night alright.” 

Jon smiles at him and Arya steps forward and hugs Jon. 

She whispers something to him but I can’t make out what she says. 

“No problem,” Jon says before Robb claps him on the shoulder. 

“If you want to do some drill in the morning come find me,” he says and Jon nods at him. “Come on Arya.” 

He says it with finality and Arya trails after him out of the courtyard and out of sight. 

I look back at Jon and the awkwardness between is thick. It occurs to me that this is the first time I am willingly attempting to talk to Jon. 

_Key word attempting._

I bring my eyes up from where they are staring at a lantern and see Jon looking off to the side, obviously feeling the same awkwardness I am. 

_Where do I start?_

I lower my eyes again and find the ground. I stand there for a few more seconds trying to think of something to say but everything I think of seems like the wrong thing. 

My thoughts continue until luckily Jon breaks the silence. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asks. 

The question is very clearly forced but I find myself smiling. 

“I’ve definitely been better,” I say, still not looking at him. “But I am a lot better than I would be if you hadn’t showed up.” 

I look up at him again and he is shifting his weight back and forth, clearly nervous. 

“I was just in the right place at the right time,” he says dismissively. 

“It was much more than just a fortunate coincidence Jon,” I say to him forcefully and he continues to shift around nervously in front of me. 

My thoughts feel like a jumbled mess. 

I know what I want to say, but I can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. 

“Why?”

I hope he knows what I mean but based on his confused expression that meets my gaze, he doesn’t. 

“Why what?” he asks. 

“Why did you help me?” I ask, thrilled that my brain seems to be forming full sentences again. 

Where confusion stood on his face before now was surprise and a little anger. 

“What do you mean, why would I help you?” he asks and I can hear the anger in his voice. 

I can feel the shame and guilt rise in my stomach again but this time it rises further. Looking into his eyes I feel a lump form in my throat. 

“My entire life, I have been nothing but awful to you,” I say to him. 

“No you haven't…” he starts but I am not willing to hear it. 

“Yes I have. I am fourteen years old Jon and this is the first conversation that we’ve ever had. And that is not because of you,” I can feel my voice start to crack slightly but I stay strong. “You have always treated me with as much respect and dignity as you do everyone else. I always threw it back in your face.” 

Jon shifts his weight again. 

“Why did you help me?” I say again but this time with more desperation and pleading in my voice. 

He lets out a sigh but lifts his eyes to meet mine again. 

“You’re my sister,” he states simply. 

The implied correction I have made hundreds of times in my life hangs between us as he says it. 

“A sister who’s treated you horribly.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” he says automatically back in return. 

I am shocked. 

“How can it not matter? You could’ve been killed,” I ask. 

“You're my sister. What kind of man would I be if I walked away from my sister when she was in trouble,” he says simply. “And whether you like or not we both have Stark blood running through our veins. It doesn’t matter what is going on between any of us, against outsiders, we must be united.” 

He pauses for a second after his short speech and takes a deep breath before speaking again. 

“When snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies,” he trails off. 

“But the pack survives,” I say back to him finishing Father’s famous quote. 

He nods his head and while the guilt is still very much rumbling around in my stomach, the confusion and desperation have been replaced by clarity. 

I don’t know if I will ever be able to fully forgive myself for being awful to Jon but at least now I feel like I understand why he did what he did. And with that clarity I feel the pressure that has been squeezing down against my brain trying to figure that out, lift off. 

And I feel much lighter. 

I look back at Jon and he is waiting for me to continue. 

“Thank you Jon,” I say and he looks surprised again. “You saved me from a horrible situation when you didn’t need to. And I can’t say enough how sorry I am for how I have treated you. I’m sorry.” 

The surprise quickly is wiped off his face and a little smile appears on his face. 

“Thank you Sansa,” he says and I feel a smile appear on my face. 

We stand in a comfortable silence this time until I start to feel my tiredness catch up with me. 

“I should be getting to bed,” I say and he nods. “Good luck tomorrow and try to be safe. I don’t want to see my brother get hurt.” 

Jon gives me a smile at my statement. 

“I’ll be fine,” he says. “Would you like me to walk you back to your room?” 

“No I will be fine. Good Night Jon,” I say turning away from him. 

“Good Night Sansa,” I hear followed by steps retreating to where him and Robb were sparring. 

I walk out of the courtyard and back towards my room. 

As I walk, I still feel nervous as I walk but not as much as before. 

If I am ever in trouble, I have a family who would do anything for me. 

And I would do anything for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> The Jaime and Jon fight is just around the corner! 
> 
> Next week we go back to Jaime's POV!


	20. The Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime prepares the morning of his fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! Hope you all are having a great weekend! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, but let me know how I do!

Today’s the day. 

Today I am fighting a young bastard because the King is bored and has nothing else to do. 

Not that there is much to do in the North. Nothing but snow and fields and emptiness. No wonder the Starks are so dull if they live in a place like this their whole lives. It’s very dreary in the North. 

I am walking down towards the grounds to get ready. I like that the fight is taking place in the morning. I hate having to wait around all day for something like this. I always like to go out and get something done if it is on my to do list. That is just part of my personality I guess. 

Act first, think later in most cases.

At least that’s what I call it. Cersei calls it being a hot head, which I guess she is not necessarily wrong on that. 

With every step, my armor that I put on every morning seems heavier than it normally does. I think the difference is usually the big heavy armor is just there. I put it on because I am supposed to but today, I know I need it. 

As I am passing the Great Hall, I see the shortest guy with the biggest mouth I know come walking up. 

“Ah there he is. You ready?” he asks with a smile falling into step beside me. 

I slow my steps slightly so it is easier for him to walk with me, a habit I have developed over the years.

“I am not nervous at all if that is what you mean. I’m the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms. A young kid doesn’t scare me at all.” I say confidently back to him. 

That is not entirely true, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“I think it would be a greater surprise if you were nervous than if you weren’t,” he responds with a smirk and I keep walking. 

“That’s fair,” I say back to him as we step outside.

“While I’m sure you will win, try not to make it too quick of victory. Drag it out a little, make it a bit of a show. Make the King happy. Because if that big oaf is happy, the rest of our lives are so much easier. Especially outside King’s Landing.” 

This is not the first time Tyrion has brought this up and that makes sense. But it is a live fight, I can’t take it too easily. 

“I’ll do my best Tyrion,” I say back to him and he smiles.

I’m sure he is about to say something else because it never seems like he stops talking, but a thought occurs to me before he can get the words out.

“Say, have you heard anything about whether Stark has accepted the Hand of the King yet?” I ask. 

He thinks for a second before responding. 

“No I haven’t. I hope he does otherwise this whole trip is pointless for all of you. Me I still get to visit the wall and you know that testing out brothels is never a wasted trip for me,” Tyrion says, another smirk on his face. 

“The importance of this trip is questionable either way,” I say back to him. 

“Fair point, but I will be shocked if he doesn't accept it. I mean the man is as honorable as ice is cold. I find it hard to believe if his King asks him to do something, he is going to say no.” 

“He‘s no saint though. He does have a bastard son,” I point out. 

“War changes a man,” he says in his voice he uses when he is trying to be wisdomess but I shoot him a skeptical look and he shrugs. “I mean I’ve heard that at least.” 

I let out a chuckle and he does the same as we arrive at the small area I have been using the last few days to get ready. It is the best place to warm up a little since the fight is starting soon. 

“Well, the fight is starting soon, I should get ready,” I say to him and he nods. 

“Good luck, and try not to get killed,” he says sincerely. 

“Your lack of faith pains me brother,” I say mockingly back to him and he lets out a chuckle as he walks away. 

I pull the sword from my scabbard and take a deep breath before starting my warmup. The one I have done thousands of times before. 

As I work, I let my mind wander a bit. My thoughts scatter around for a minute but eventually they land on my twin. 

The hateful woman walking around the castle somewhere right now with a false smile on her face. 

Cersei has taken to avoiding me the past few days, ever since I told her I refused to kill the kid during the fight today. 

There are times when I really wish the gods did not have me love such a hateful woman. My life would be a lot easier if I did not. 

But I do. 

I take a deep breath finishing my warmup and sitting down on a bench nearby. 

I take a few deep breaths, slowing my mind and getting focused, like I do before every fight and tournament. 

There has been an onslaught of people these past few days saying to me that I am going to win. Saying I do not have to worry whatsoever and that I could probably beat moving half speed. 

They may be right. 

I like to think that they are. 

But I am never going to find out. 

Every time someone says that my mind always goes back to something the greatest swordsman, I ever saw said to me. 

Ser Arthur Dayne. 

* * *

_I had just joined the Kingsguard at the spry age of fifteen and he was by far the best swordsmen in the group of Kingsguard that housed several high level knights._

_I had just finished watching him dispense with three young trainees, leaving them all with bruises and cuts to remember him by._

_I remember thinking and as I sat there astonished as he cut them all down mercilessly and swiftly, that I didn’t understand why he seemed to be going just as hard when he went against those fools as when he went against Ser Oswell Whent._

_The man who was the only one in the Kingsguard capable of lasting more than five minutes against the Sword of the Morning._

_He walked over and I threw a water jug at him which he accepted happily._

_He sat down next to where I had been watching and chucked the water back over to me once he was done._

_“Learning anything Lannister?” he asked with a smug smile._

_“I don’t know how much I learn by watching you destroy those three.” I say in my confident voice that came naturally to me even back then._

_Even in front of him._

_“Never dismiss a chance to learn something. Always be striving to improve,” he said._

_“I do have a question for you though?” I say and he nods indicating for me to speak._

_“Every time I watch you spar, you always go with the same intensity, the same speed, the same fury, no matter who you are facing. Whether that be against me or the Prince or Ser Barristan or those fools you just sent to the maester.”_

_“Yes, what is the question?” he asks with a slight chuckle._

_“Why? Why go that hard? I mean you do not need to be going 100% to beat those guys or even me for that matter.”_

_He lets out a sigh before looking back at me._

_“When you have a reputation like mine. You’re famous, you’re revered, you’re feared. When that happens and someone faces you. You are going to get their best. Their full effort. Their max. And when someone is fighting like that, no matter how hard skilled they are or you are, one mistake could be the difference in victory or defeat. Life or death. Everyone wants to slay the legend. If someone beat me, think of how big of news that would be.”_

_I nod at his statement because he is right. If ANYONE beat him, even if it was just in a spar, it would be the talk of the castle._

_“So each time I line up against someone I have to fight with the same intensity that they are. The same fire, the same maximum effort. It is the only way I know to guarantee I win. Because I am more skilled than anyone else, so the only way they beat me is if they want it more than me, and I can’t let that happen. So your right, do I have to fight with that level of intensity to beat those three guys, no, probably not. But I do not want to find out.”_

_I nod understanding his logic and it made sense._

_I know I try just a little bit harder against him than anyone else._

_“The day I take any fight easier than I should is the day I die. And once that happens, it does not matter at all what happened in the fight or how it happened. The story will be written by whoever beats me. Because Lannister, history is written by those who won.”_

_He finishes his speech and I look off to the side thinking about what he said._

_He is absolutely correct. If you aren’t around to tell your story, no one will hear it._

_We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes before the sounds of footsteps begin to approach and we are unsurprised to see the Prince come walking in the courtyard._

_The Prince had wanted to come see what I am made of according to Dayne. As he gets set up, I stretch out my arms and legs again before moving opposite of him._

_“Alright, no pressure Lannister, you will only lose all respect of every single Kingsguard if you lose to him,” Dayne says behind us and the Prince lets out a chuckle._

_“Oh shut up Arthur, I am not that bad,” the Prince replies but Dayne just shrugs in return._

_“I’m not saying you are, but there is definitely a reason why we hold the swords and you hold the pen,” Dayne offers and I chuckle as does the Prince._

_I then spend the next 30 minutes sparring with the Prince while his best friend takes jabs at the both of us. I beat him every time, luckily for me, but he holds his own._

_As I face him over and over, I notice that something just seems off with the way he swings. I do not know exactly what it is but there is something just off. When I collapse onto a seat that is fortunately out of the blistering Kings Landing sun, Dayne throws a water jug at me which I happily drink from._

_I turn towards him as he finishes chatting with the Prince._

_I’m not entirely sure how to ask my question so I just start talking._

_“Is his...style different?” I ask questioningly hoping that Dayne knows what I am referring to and it seems he does as he smirks at me._

_“I told you he would see it,” Dayne calls over his shoulder but the Prince just scoffs._

_“There is nothing wrong with my swing,” the Prince calls back._

_“I have never said there is anything wrong with it, it is just funky,” Dayne replies and I nod at him._

_“What is funky about it?” he asks me and I shrug at him._

_“I don’t really know but it just is. It threw me off a couple of times,” I say back and he chuckles._

_“Obviously not enough,” he says with a smile._

_“But Lannister is right, it is odd. Your swing has been that way ever since I have known you. There is something odd and unique about it. I am just curious to see if your son swings the same way,” Dayne mused and the Prince shook his head before starting to walk off._

_“Good job Lannister, maybe I will get you next time,” the Prince says._

_“I hope not Your Grace,” I say in return as he and Dayne chuckle as the leave the courtyard._

* * *

_History is written by those who won._

That is why I never take any opponent lightly. 

Because he was right. 

No matter who I am facing, whether I have met them or not, I get their best effort. 

Everyone wants to beat the Kingslayer. 

I let out a sigh and close my eyes.

Every time I think about that day it makes me miss Ser Arthur. And the Prince. They both really turned into the older brothers I always wanted but never had. Dayne really took me under his wing and groomed me into the swordsman I am. He is a huge reason I am as great of a swordsman as I am. 

And Prince Rhaegar was always courteous and fun whenever I was around him. That is why I was, and still am, shocked when I learned he had captured Lyanna Stark. It seemed so unlike him. 

Him and Elia were never in love but they respected each other immensely and I never thought he would do anything so obvious to hurt her like that. Even worse was when I learned he had raped the Stark girl because that seemed even more outlandish. 

But he was not around to defend himself, so history wrote his story. There is a part of me that still denies that is what he did but I know it is just a silly hope based on the memory of an old friend. 

My thoughts are broken by approaching footsteps. I look up to see the constantly terrified Lancel Lannister approaching. 

I quickly wipe the tears that had formed in my eyes and look up at him. 

“What is it I can do for you cousin?” I ask him. 

“Th-the Ki-King asked me t-to let you know it-it is time,” he stammered out. 

I don’t really know why he is so constantly terrified but the bad part of me finds it funny. 

“Thank you, cousin, I will be right there.” 

He quickly moves away and I stand and take another deep breath to focus. As I start to step into the courtyard, I feel the couple of Lannister guards that were assigned to accompany me to the circle to “assure my protection” fall in step beside me. 

I recognize the courtyard as the one that Joffrey’s sorry attempt at using a sword took place. I knew he was bad but god I didn’t know he was a disgrace to swordsmen everywhere. 

I walk and a path forms to allow me into the center of the people who had gathered. When I arrive at the roped off circle, I take a look up and around and it is packed. Both down on the ground and up on the second floor balustrade above me. 

I would be shocked if there is anyone in the castle that is not here right now. 

_I guess where else would they be?_

It is not like there is a ton else going on in the castle right now. 

The Lannister people all around me are all cheering and chanting but I tune them out for the most part. 

I am surprised that Jon Snow is not already here. but my thoughts are answered as the Stark side starts cheering loudly. I look where the crowd is dispersing and the bastard is walking in followed by the eldest Stark child and the Stark ward Theon Greyjoy. 

The bastard’s eyes are down and not looking up at me which surprises me, but his posture is not scared or cowering. 

Every other person I have fought approaches me two ways. They either look me straight in the eyes trying, and failing, to intimidate me or they try to almost sneak in, eyes down and cowardly posture. 

But he was doing a combo somehow. 

He wasn’t looking at me but he was walking confidently. Without fear or hesitation. 

While the bastard was not looking at me, the same could not be said for his legitimate brother or the ward. 

The pair was taking the staring approach as they walked in. But while the Greyjoy was looking at me with a calm expression, the Stark was looking at me with anger in his eyes. 

What is that kid's deal? 

_It is not like I wanted this fight kid._

He eventually disengages eye contact and turns towards his half-brother. 

I look away from the trio and scan the balustrade above me again. I see the King in the center who has Ned Stark to one side and Cersei to the other.

I lock eyes with Cersei as the King downs a glass of wine. 

She is giving me a hateful look, which I find weird because all I have done is refuse to kill an innocent kid. But also in her eyes is a slightly hopeful look. Like she is hoping that I will come around to her side of thinking. 

I shake my head slightly at her and as we continue to bear our eyes into each other and I can almost hear her voice. 

_“Remember what he did to our son,” I can hear her saying._

I disengage eye contact and look back across from me. 

The bastard is looking over at me now. He does not have the hatred that mirrored his brother or the cockiness I found in the wards eyes. 

There was nothing. 

Not a blank stare. 

But his face held no emotions. 

Like he had done this a hundred times before. 

Like this was nothing special. 

_Got to respect the stones on this kid if nothing else._

“All right! Let’s get this started,” the King’s booming voice says and both of us make our way to the center. “Before we get started, let me reiterate, there will be no major injuries if we can avoid them. Show mercy when you can and you are to stop when the other gets knocked to the ground. I will not have this turning into more of a shit show. The first person to knock the other to the ground five times wins, or of course if someone gets too injured to continue and yields the fight. Are you ready?” 

“Yes Your Grace,” I say automatically in my usual tone. 

“Great! Let’s get started!” he says and the whole crowd roars in approval.

We face each other again and we each draw our swords out and I bring mine out in front of me. I expect his next move to mirror my own but he switches his sword to his opposite hand and steps forward and holds out his hand. 

“No hard feelings,” he says simply looking me in the eyes. 

_I like this kid._

I take his hand and shake it hard. 

“No hard feelings,” I say back with a nod. 

With that we take a few steps back and I ready myself and I see him do the same. My eyes lock in the way they always do and I prepare to give my all. 

Because anything less will get me killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know!
> 
> And I can confirm that the fight will start next week! Hopefully I do it justice! 
> 
> See you all next week!


	21. The Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The match between Jaime and Jon commences!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I know you all have been waiting very patiently for it! I hope I did it justice. 
> 
> I am sorry for the late posting but I have been working on this up until right now, tweeking and editing trying to finally get it to a place I really like and I think I got there! 
> 
> I'm sorry I have not replied to the comments from last week, this week was crazy but i will get to them! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this! Let me know how I did!

**Robb POV**

I should be tired. 

I did not sleep very much last night. 

Too nervous. 

But despite getting less than two hours of sleep, I do not feel tired at all. 

I am currently finishing the small tray of food I fetched from the kitchen as I see Jon enter the hall and he spots me almost right away. 

As he approaches, I take a look at him and he seems very calm. Much more calm than I am. 

“You get enough sleep?” I ask as he sits. 

“Enough,” he says gruffly sitting down with his plate of food. 

He is not wearing his armor yet, though he doesn’t normally wear it around so that makes sense.

I feel like I should be saying something, but unlike every other time, nothing is coming to mind so I opt to stay in silence. As we eat Jon does not look up from his food and he seems to be in deep thought. 

“Keep brooding and the look might become etched onto your face permanently. You’ll have a hard time getting the ladies with an expression like that,” I say jokingly hoping to break the tension some. 

It works as he lets out a small chuckle looking up at me. He doesn’t say anything back but I wasn’t expecting him to. 

“Are you ready?” I ask him. 

“I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be,” he says with a small smile. 

I feel the normal squeeze of worry fill my gut but I try to ignore it because I know it will do nothing to help Jon at this point. He has an air of resignation about him. Like he knows what is going to happen but is going to do it anyways. 

Just as I think that he stands from the table. 

“I am going to go get ready,” he says. 

“Sounds good, I’ll come meet you before and walk out there with you,” I say. 

He nods and leaves the hall. I stand as well. I need to go see Father before the fight. I make my way out as more and more people begin to fill the space and I make my way towards Father’s office. 

I wish he was still sleeping even though I know he can’t. He doesn't get near enough sleep normally, and it is even less while the Royal family is here. 

I knock on the door but don’t really wait for a response and open the door. 

“You know most people wait for me to allow them to enter,” he says as I take a seat in front of him. 

“Do I look like most people to you?” I ask, smiling at him. 

“You never have been normal that is for sure,” he says with a chuckle which matches mine. 

“What are you working on?” I ask and he groans looking at the papers in front of him. 

“I'm trying to get my mind around how much this Royal Visit is costing us,” he says irritated. 

“There is no way it is cheap,” I say and he chuckles again. 

“Your right about that. Even after all of these years, all these numbers just make my head spin.” 

“I get that,” I say and a silence falls in the room as he rubs his eyes. 

“Did you see Jon yet this morning?” Father asks. 

“Yeah we ate together just before I came here.” 

“And how is he doing?” 

_That’s a good question.  
_ “He seems ready to go. He said he is as ready as he could be,” I say and Father nods. 

“Is he worried at all?” 

“I’m sure he is nervous somewhere inside him, I mean he wouldn’t be human if he wasn’t but he is not showing it at all. He’s putting on a brave face. Trying to make it easier on us,” I say. 

“Yeah that sounds like him.” 

Silence falls in the room again and a nagging question comes to the front of my mind. 

“Have you decided whether you are going to accept the King’s offer?” I ask hesitantly. 

Father who had been looking at the wall looks back at me now with a small smile. 

“No I haven’t. I don't know if I can say no to him but leaving here right now would be extremely complicated. Between all the stuff that has happened between us and the Lannisters recently, Benjen says something weird is happening North of the Wall and our guest camping out in her room, it seems like a lot to leave on your plate.” 

“What’s happening North of the Wall?” I ask. 

The deserter Father beheaded not long ago pops back into my mind, as he did claim that he saw White Walkers. 

“Benjen says that they have been finding an increased number of Wildling villages abandoned,” he says looking at me with worry. 

“Abandoned?” I ask surprised and he nods. 

“So with all that is happening here I don’t know if I want to leave. But if I don’t accept, Robert will ask one of the Lannisters to be Hand of the King and I can’t let that happen. Not right now.” 

I nod my head in agreement and wait for him to continue like I know he will. 

“Do you feel ready?” he asks. 

I let out a sigh and look over at the wall before looking back over at him.

“I don’t think I am ever going to feel truly ready to step into your shoes. But I do not feel unprepared either. Does that make sense?”

He nods in response. 

“Listen to Luwin. Listen to your Mother. Listen to the people around you and you will be fine,” he says and smiles at me. 

_I better be ready._

I clear my throat and look away from him. 

“Well, I should find Jon,” I say. 

“Yes I should go and find the King,” Father says and with that we exit the room. 

We walk together for a little while until I split off and head to where I know Jon will be getting ready. I am just about there when Theon appears from almost out of nowhere matching my strides. 

“He ready?” he asks. 

“As ready as he is going to be,” I say. 

I see the courtyard ahead and I stop and turn to Theon. 

“Don’t do or say anything to get in Jon’s head today,” I state to him. 

“I promise to be on my best behavior,” he says with a sly grin and I roll my eyes. 

_I can only hope that’s true._

I resume my walk and I see Jon finishing putting on his extremely lightweight armor as we enter. His eyes come up to meet mine before finishing a strap on his shoulder. 

I mean it will stop direct hits to his chest and back by a sword but I’m not sure it will hold up against high speed slashes or offer any give on strikes to his chest or back, which worries me.

“I really wish you would wear more armor, that just does not seem like enough. You had more on in the forest than you do now and we weren’t even prepared for that one.” 

He lets out a sigh and looks back up at me. 

“He can’t hit what he can’t catch, Robb. The only chance I have is him not being able to get his sword on me enough to knock me down,” he says grabbing his sword. 

A big roar comes up from behind us. I glance back at the crowded yard not too far away before looking back at Jon.

“I think they are ready for us,” I say and Jon lets out a nervous breath before nodding and starting his determined walk towards the crowd. 

Jon walks ahead of us and as we get closer, and I feel the nerves in my stomach grow larger and larger. Another roar of the crowd goes up as we approach and I see the people split to let Jon through. 

My eyes immediately shoot across the circle to the man standing looking over at us and the nerves in my stomach quickly turn to anger. 

_Fucking Lannisters._

As I continue walking, I keep my eyes on the Kingslayer. I look at him and I am ready to see his signature cocky grin on his face. 

But I don’t. 

His eyes are locked on mine in a calculating and analyzing gaze. Like he is trying to figure something out. I look away from him and back to Jon.

“You can still back out,” I say to him and Jon gives me a look.

“You know that is not true,” he says grabbing his sword from where he had set it down. 

“Just don’t get killed,” I say quietly. 

Jon looks at me for a few seconds before nodding, setting in a serious expression as he moves his eyeline across the circle to look at the Kingslayer. 

He is looking over at us, or more specifically at Jon. 

I can feel the anger in my eyes as I look at him. 

_His nephew tried to rape my sister._

The thought would not leave my mind and I could feel it burning in my mind whenever I looked at any of them. 

“All right! Let’s get this started,” the King announces startlingly me and drawing my eyes up to him. “Before we get started, let me reiterate, there will be no major injuries if we can avoid them. And you are to stop when the other gets knocked to the ground. The first person to knock the other to the ground five times wins or if someone gets too injured to continue and yields the fight. Are you ready?” 

“Yes Your Grace,” the Kingslayer says and Jon just nods

“Great! Let’s get started!” the King says and the whole crowd roars in approval around us. 

I look around and hadn’t realized until now just how many people were here. The entire yard was jam packed with Stark and Lannister people, both sides making their positions very clear. 

I look back to the fight and the Kingslayer already has his sword raised. But before he can make a move, Jon sticks his hand out to the man. 

“No hard feelings,” I can hear Jon say, though I doubt if I was any further back I would have been able to make it out. 

I see the Lannister look at Jon with a mixture of confusion and respect before taking the outstretched hand. 

“No hard feelings,” the Kingslayer echoes. 

They break off the handshake and move a few yards from each other both raising their swords. For a second there is no movement. 

If Jon is anything, he is patient so no doubt he is waiting for the Kingslayer to make the first move. He does so as he starts to step slightly to his right. Jon matches his steps keeping the same distance. 

_Why is Jon’s stance so open?_

I have trained with Jon a lot over the past couple of days. But the stance he used then is not the one I am seeing now. 

It is a lot more open and exposed. 

_What is he doing?_

After another 20 seconds of the two of them moving around each other step for step, it is the Kingslayer to make the first move. 

His move is lightning fast, slashing down from the right and Jon just barely is able to get his sword up in time and move away from him as he takes a big step backwards. 

If it wasn’t clear before who the better fighter was, it is clear now. 

Jaime keeps the pressure on Jon and it only takes a few seconds for the Kingslayer to expose Jon’s open stance and put him on his back with a strong strike to Jon’s chest earning a huge roar of approval from the Lannister crowd. 

_Jon, what are you doing?_

I knew that Jon probably was not going to win, but I did expect him to put up some sort of fight. 

Jon rolls over and moves to stand for the next round but before he pushes up, I see one of his arms very briefly move towards his chest and I’m reminded that he still must be feeling the pain in his ribs from the wildling fight and that blow certainly did not help.

I watch him as he is able to keep the pain off his face and he retracts his arm to keep himself from giving away his ailment to his opponent. 

“Lannister wins the first point and leads 1-0,” someone calls out and the Lannister side roars in approval again.

As Jon pushes up to stand, we lock eyes. I’m sure he can see the fear and guilt in my eyes but instead of just turning around like I expect him to, he gives me a small smirk.

Like he knows something I don’t. 

_What are you up to?_

I watch closely as Jon stands back up and into position in front of the Kingslayer and remains using his dreadful open stance. 

He is up to something, he has to be. I just have no idea what it is. 

Jon once again remains patient, waiting for the Kingslayer to make the first move. It does not take nearly as long for the next round to start as after only a few seconds the Kingslayer starts the same way he did before by slashing down from the right. 

Jon, expecting it this time, gets his sword up and retreats away again. But I notice his step backwards is smaller than the first time. The Kingslayer moves forward again, keeping the pressure on but this time on Lannister’s advance, instead of retreating further Jon does something different. He takes a step forward just as the Kingslayer begins his strike downward exposing himself. Jon ducks under the swing and turns to strike at his exposed right shoulder. 

It is only the Kingslayer’s insanely fast reflexes that allows him to get his sword up in time to block Jon’s strike but both the unexpected angle and force behind Jon’s strike knocks the Lannister off balance causing him to stumble back a few feet. 

Jon quickly changes back to the stance I have come to expect from him as he attacks the Lannister and is on him just as fast not allowing the man in front of him any room to recover.

A lesser swordsman would have been down a few seconds later, but the Kingslayer is not considered one of the best swordsmen alive for no reason. 

The Kingslayer is able to stay on the defensive for about 30 seconds, retreating and circling, trying to find a hole in the barrage of strikes Jon is raining down on him but is finding none. 

Jon keeps pressing the attack, not allowing him any room to turn the tables back on him. 

And one slow step from Kingslayer from his foot getting caught in some deep mud is all Jon needs to send the man’s sword out to the side before swiping the legs out from under him using his sword sending the Kingslayer back first into the dirt much to the delight of the entire Stark crowd. 

The Lannister crowd is stunned. 

I don’t think they expected Jon to win any points. 

But he did. 

The Kingslayer is quick to pop back to his feet and I can see both anger and respect in his eyes as he looks at Jon. 

“1-1,” the same man calls out and the Stark side yells their approval.

It was a good, if not a little cheap, move by Jon to gain the advantage but the Kingslayer is still better than him. 

The Kingslayer proves just that on the next point as he attacks Jon with fury. He barely waited for Jon to reset before he was on him keeping Jon on defense, coming at him with a flurry of attacks and I notice he seems to be attacking Jon’s left side more than the right.

Jon is a good swordsman. 

Not great. But good. 

Good enough to stay upright against the quick strikes of Jaime Lannister, but it does not seem like Jon can do much other than that. After 1 minute the Kingslayer is able to get Jon’s sword traveling farther out than he should and he takes advantage. 

He brings his sword sweeping across, not allowing Jon to cross his sword back over before striking down across Jon’s left shoulder sending him to the ground onto his back with a sound thud. 

The Lannister side roars its approval with a few choice curse words being hurled at Jon. 

“2-1 Lannister,” the man yells again. 

Jon’s armor caught the brunt of the attack, but given how small it is, there is no doubt that it will leave a bruise if it didn’t draw a little blood. 

Not one to waste time, Jon pops right back up but I see his arm almost reach toward his chest again before he stops himself. 

Jon comes in front of the Kingslayer but this time instead of waiting he jumps on the man, hoping to catch him off guard but the Kingslayer is having none of it, easily catching Jon’s swift strike from the right and tossing it off to the side. 

I raise my eyebrow slightly at Jon’s strike as I see him reverting back to the swing style he uses as he gets tried. 

Normally his movements are crisp and precise but the more tired he gets, the more this second style comes out. 

I can’t really explain it, but it just looks weird and it throws you off. 

I'm not sure if the Kingslayer even picked up on the change as he throws another Jon strike to the side.

Not one to be perturbed Jon continues his offensive barrage, the change in style finding its way into his swing more and more. 

Despite the numerous attacks Jon is finding no holes to exploit. Jon swings down from the right but the Kingslayer throws it off to the right before raising his foot and giving Jon a hard kick to the stomach sending him back a few steps but Jon, despite stumbling slightly keeps his feet. 

I expect to see a grimace on Jon’s face from the kick but none appears, keeping his pain internal. 

Jon may not have fallen and given up the point just yet but now the momentum swung back to the Kingslayer as he did not give Jon two seconds before he was on him again. 

I’m fairly sure the first of the Kingslayer’s swings that Jon blocks as he reengages is just luck as he just barely raised his sword in time to block the strike after getting his feet back under him. 

Whether it was luck or not, the block gives Jon enough time to get his defenses fully back up and start retreating under the Kingslayer’s advance.

The Kingslayer keeps the pressure on Jon for about 1 minute before he is able to jar Jon’s defenses. 

He is moving quickly, and as he delivers two quick swings to Jon’s right side, he brings the sword up from the bottom forcing Jon to expose his middle to stop it. The Kingslayer spins around and delivers a slash across Jon’s back before Jon can even think to turn around sending Jon down into the mud face first.

I cringe as the Lannister side roars in approval again. 

“3-1 Lannister. Water,” the man announces and I move forward to help Jon up off the ground. 

As I move my eyes, they inadvertently find the Queens and she is looking at Jon with pure glee as he is face down in the dirt. 

_What the fuck is her problem?_

Jon is starting to stand when I get there but I pull him up the rest of the way as he groans in disapproval of the quick movement. 

“You alright?” I ask to which Jon just shrugs as Theon passes him a towel to wipe his face off with, which Jon gratefully accepts. 

Once he is clean, well cleaner, I hand him the water jug and take to big gulps. 

“How are the ribs?” I ask and he looks at me slightly surprised before answering. 

“Wishing they healed faster right about now,” he said with a grimace and I nod. I look at the shoulder that was the brunt of the first big Lannister blow and I do not see any blood which is good but then I walk around to Jon’s other side and see the slash from the Kingslayer did in fact draw blood. Not a lot but enough that Jon is definitely feeling it. 

It is not bad by itself, but enough of them, and...

“It’s fine Robb,” Jon says and I shake my head. 

“You should have worn better armor, or bigger armor,” I say and Jon chuckles which makes him wince. 

I come back around in front of him as he speaks. 

“Any more weight, and there is no way I would be able to keep up with him as well as I am now, which is not very good to begin with,” he says and I nod my head because he may be right, but that does not mean I like to see the red liquid slowly soaking his back anymore. 

“Just...if it gets too bad, do not be too proud to yield,” I say and Jon nods at me but knowing him, I do not want to know what it would take to get him to stay down. 

“Get on with it,” a voice bellows and Jon hands me the water jug back before moving back toward the center of the circle. 

Jon and the Kingslayer move toward each other again and get their positions and get ready to start again.

The fifth point starts similarly to the first three with the Kingslayer instigating the action and Jon doing his best to keep up. 

I am watching the Kingslayer’s every move even closer now, hoping to see something to help Jon. 

A pattern or a hole. 

Anything. 

But there is nothing. 

He is just that good. 

However somewhere in the middle of an offensive attack by the Kingslayer, Jon times a swinging block of the Lannister’s strike just right to knock the man off balance and like that Jon is on the offensive again. 

Forcing the action forward and I notice his tired swing is starting to come back more and more. I look into the Kingslayer’s face and while the rest of the fight, his face has been resting in a focused glare, his eyes are now roaming Jon like he is trying to figure something out. 

The look quickly leaves his face as the Kingslayer stays on the defensive for two minutes before he tries to turn the tables back.

Jon is not giving him much room to work with as he is pressing the advantage he has but just as the Kingslayer is taking another retreating step back, he takes a shorter stride before launching forward aiming his swing at Jon’s left shoulder just as Jon starts another swing back down at him. 

Jon is able to duck under the strike, somehow and gives the Kingslayer who launched by him a strong kick to the back sending him face first into the dirt this time. 

“3-2.”

Jon takes a few deep inhales to catch his breath as he waits for the Lannister to stand. The Stark side cheers again and I feel proud as I look at Jon but it is soon replaced by the fear that has been churning in my stomach during the entire fight. Jon’s back is turned to me and I can see the blood continuing to slowly collect along his back.

The Kingslayer stands again and turns back to face Jon, immediately jumping back into the fight. The defeat must have again turned something on in the Kingslayer as his movements seemed to be faster this time.

Which I did not think was going to be possible. 

Jon is able to swipe the first few off, returning to the defensive style that has helped the match last this long. Jon is able to hold him at bay for about a minute but a fake right and slash left by the Kingslayer that Jon reads wrong leaves the him room to collide with Jon’s sword hard, I see Jon grimace under the force of the strike but Jon summons his strength and is able to shove the Kingslayer back a step. 

Jon takes a step back and winds up to swing again, his tired swing in full affect now and move down to block the Kingslayer oncoming blow.

But then the Kingslayer freezes. 

His sword stopping mid strike.

Confusion and recognition etched onto his face.

The Kingslayer may have frozen but Jon doesn’t as he brings his sword down hard on the Kingslayer’s left shoulder, just like he had done to him before kicking the somehow stunned man to the ground. 

The crowd is stunned and no one does anything for a couple seconds. 

_Why did he freeze?_

It is the question on everyone’s mind but it only takes a few seconds before the Stark side raises their arms and voices in a loud cheer. 

“3-3,” can barely be heard over the noise. 

I look at Jon who looks back at me confused and then at the Kingslayer who I expect to be angry but when he lifts his head and looks at Jon it’s not there.

Recognition and relief are in its place. 

The Kingslayer stands but his posture is more relaxed now as he looks on Jon and I see a smile cross his face. 

_What is happening?_

“Are you alright, Ser Jaime,” Jon asks. 

The Kingslayer shakes his head of his thoughts and I can see his eyes refocus.

“Yes, I apologize, my head was elsewhere,” he says, his voice still distant and quiet before he regains his stance and his face returns to its focused glare. 

The two start circling again, and the fight returns to normal after that bizarre pause. 

Like almost every other time they spend a few seconds circling each other before the Lannister moves first. 

He sends a strike down from the right and they are off again. The Kingslayer setting the pace and Jon doing his best to hold his ground. 

Before now I haven't seen the Kingslayer fight in person, just heard about him through stories. And I have to say, while a lot of men do not live up to the expectations put on them, the King being one of them that comes to mind, Jaime Lannister is not. 

He is a great swordsman. 

Definitely better than Jon. 

Not that Jon is not a good swordsman, because he is, the Kingslayer is just on another level. 

This point has been going for about three minutes at this point. Jon was able to get a surge of momentum for a little while but the Kingslayer quickly regained the aggressor role. 

Jon blocks another swing down from the right and retreats another step blocking the Lannister’s quick sword coming back from the left. 

There are times where I am convinced the Kingslayer is using two swords he is moving so fast. Jon tries to take a defensive swing to back up the man in front of him but the Kingslayer is having none of it as he forces his momentum back towards Jon causing Jon to stumble a little. As he does his sword flails out to the side as his arms attempt to help maintain his balance but the split second should be all the Kingslayer needs but as he starts his swing down Jon turns to the side and raises his sword arm in protection. 

The Kingslayer’s oncoming swing slashes down along Jon’s forearm, luckily not cutting _too_ deep onto the skin. Jon on reflex sends his sword flying back towards his attacker from the side, the swing almost catches the Kingslayer off guard, clearly not expecting the reaction to a deep cut to be a quick swing by the same hand. But he is able to catch Jon’s swing with a strong and swift swing to the side that sends Jon’s sword flying from his hand to the ground a few feet away. 

Jon tries to send a punch up with his left hand but the Kingslayer catches it and pauses only for an instant, no doubt contemplating breaking the hand but instead he brings a knee to Jon’s stomach before pushing him face down into the ground.

The Lannister side erupts in celebration again as the Kingslayer is left panting from the exertion, with mud still covering his face.

Jon lifts his body up, mud on his face now matching the Kingslayer. 

As he stands, I see Jon’s left hand come up and support his stomach and chest area with a grimace accompanying every movement he makes to stand and I cringe at every twitch of pain I see in my brother. I look back at Jon, and he is walking over slowly to grab his sword that had been ended up in the mud not too far away. 

We lock eyes and he nods at me which I return, trying to convey my confidence but I am sure my worry is also shining through as well.

_I have never been great at hiding my emotions._

“All right! The score is 4-3 in favor of Lannister. Next point wins for the Kingslayer,” the King’s man yells and the Lannister side cheers their approval. 

I look at the Kingslayer and he is flexing his sword hand and moves his shoulder, clearly trying to rid it of pain. He also looks tired, which makes sense, this has not been easy on either of them.

Definitely easier on the Lannister as he will have less cuts to deal with, but either way, I am selfishly glad I am not having to do this. 

Jon picks up his sword and the two face each again, the tension level in the yard seems to have gone up somehow at the prospect that this could be the last point. 

This time, Jon tries to take control of the pace as he instigates the action, starting with a slash from the right and it forces the Kingslayer into a small retreat letting Jon claim the pace for a few seconds before turning it back in his favor. 

Jon moves a slightly slower this round, not by much, but his injuries are clearing starting to wear on him and any decrease in speed against a swordsman as good as the Kingslayer could be very costly. 

They stay close to each other trading blows for a few minutes, Jon getting a couple of surges to hold the Kingslayer off from overpowering him but for the most part the Kingslayer remains the aggressor. 

This entire fight has been a struggle to see who will make the first mistake. If no one made a mistake, the Kingslayer won, because he was better and eventually his speed and strength became too much.

But it took time. 

If Jon made a mistake it was over fast. 

But Jon had to be good enough at fending off the Kingslayer’s attack and wait for him to leave him an opening. I am praying for the Kingslayer to make another mistake, but a man as skilled as the Kingslayer does not make many mistakes, if any at all. 

Jon has been able to capitalize on a few of them, whether it was his overconfidence in the beginning or the stumbling over the muddy ground below them but Jon is not good enough to beat him straight up. 

Yet. 

Maybe someday. But not today. 

I am praying to the Old Gods and the New for him to make a mistake but he does seem to be giving any of those out. Jon tries once again to change the tide but is repelled again as the Kingslayer’s quick movement. 

No doubt Jon is getting tired and I can tell as he is starting to take more and more risks with his strikes. Risks that will get knocked down. 

And just as I think that Jon tries a small lunge in attack again but the Kingslayer knocks his sword to the side leaving him just a big enough window to strike.

And when the Kingslayer delivers the final strike across Jon’s shoulder, Jon is barely able to get his sword up in time and with barely any power behind it sending him stumbling back, and a final slash across Jon’s armored stomach has rough strength to finish the fight, sending Jon to the ground and the Lannister side cheering louder than ever before. 

_Is it possible to punch all of them at once?_

As the Lannisters cheer I take a few steps forward to go help Jon but before I get too far the Kingslayer walks over and for a second, I worry he is going to hit him again. But instead the Kingslayer walks to Jon’s side and reaches his hand down. 

It takes a second but Jon grabs it and the Lannister pulls Jon to his feet clapping on the shoulder as Jon stands causing Jon to wince slightly. 

The Kingslayer has a proud and friendly smile on his face as he does so. Like he is talking to a close friend or family member. 

I see them mumble something to each other, I think it is “good job” based on the way their lips move but I can’t hear them at all as the Starks joined in on the cheering as Jon stood. 

_I can barely hear my own self think it is so loud._

I look up at the balustrade and I see Arya standing near Mother and Father. She is looking down at Jon proud, slightly concerned, mixed with relief, and a loving expression on her face all at the same time.

Father is as stoic as ever though you can see the proud shine behind his eyes as he looks down at the pair in the center. 

I also see a tiny glimmer of fear and concern in his features, which confuses me but I choose not to dwell on it. 

But who I am surprised to be matching Father’s stoic expression is Mother. 

She does not look angry. 

But she does not look happy either. 

Though her eyes are carrying more anger than I typically see in them. 

And with everyone around her, minus Father, having a smile on their face and laughing, she kind of sticks out. 

_What is their deal?_

Mother’s gaze is pointed at Jon, and she seems to only be watching him at the moment. 

This whole thing with my mom and Jon is still new and weird to me but I will figure it out at some point. 

_I don’t think my brain will fully rest until I do._

As the cheers start to wind down, eyes start to travel up to the King who has now stood from his chair, although he is swaying some. 

“Congratulations on a good fight to both of you! Well fought!” he says, earning another round of cheers from the people around me. “Now more wine!” 

With that a semi forced chuckle comes up over the crowd and they all take it as the clear note to start clearing out. 

Jon turns and starts walking over to me, he doesn’t look to be in too bad of shape but he has more than a couple of cuts and his hand is supporting his stomach similarly to how it was after the forest. 

_Those fucking ribs making life miserable for him again._

“Good job,” I say sincerely with a smile and he gives me a small smile but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge the comment. 

“I lost,” he says simply. 

“To Jaime Lannister.” 

“Still lost,” he says looking at the group of people dispersing behind him. 

“It’s okay to be happy and proud of yourself you know?” I say it sarcastically but he just looks down and we start walking out of the yard, with Theon surprisingly quiet behind us. 

I would offer to support him as he is limping slightly but I know he will take that badly so I refrain.

“Are you okay?” I ask instead letting the concern return to my voice. 

“The few blows to my ribs turned a very minor nagging pain back into a hurt to breath pain. My back and shoulder are hurting from the slash and I can tell I am going to be very sore tomorrow but otherwise I’m good,” he says I can almost hear the laugh creeping into his voice. 

I know he is blunt but I was not expecting such a full response and I can’t help the small chuckle. I hear Theon do the same and Jon looks over at him which shuts him up quickly. 

As we walk towards Luwin's study Jon’s eyes are darting around at all the people that have started to form around him to offer him congratulations. 

Sensing his discomfort and his desperate want to just get out of here I speak up a little louder than is probably necessary, but it got the point across.

“Well let’s get you up to Luwin and have him take a look,” I say and the crowd keeps moving.   
We continue our trek and I know there are other things I should probably go do, but I do not want to leave Jon’s side yet. 

_Will we ever get back to simplicity around here?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? I hope you all enjoyed it! 
> 
> New chapter next week as we jump ahead a little bit! 
> 
> See you all next week!


	22. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned gets ready to leave for Kings Landing while Jaime reflects on a potentially dangerous decision he has made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Another week, another chapter!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my story! Let me know how I am doing!
> 
> This chapter is a bit of a filler and we pick it up next chapter!

**Ned POV**

One day. 

There is a lot to do in just one day.

Things are moving so fast. It wasn’t that long ago that my biggest concern was a deserter from the Nights Watch. 

But since then, Jon and Robb fought Wildlings. 

The King traveled all the way North. 

And I agreed to become the next Hand of the King. 

Because Jon Arryn died. 

I still feel the strong tug of sadness as I think about him. Dying so instantly. 

_And he might have been poisoned. By the Lannisters no less._

The letter Cat received from her sister changed everything for me. And has not been far from mind ever since I heard it. 

I don’t want it to be true. 

I mean it very easily could not be. 

Lysa has never had the sharpest mind. 

But Cat was right, that is a dangerous letter to send. She put her entire house and her son in danger by sending that letter and that is a big risk to send a lie. 

I was planning on saying no to the King’s offer. 

It was going to be hard and I know Robert would have been hurt and insulted but with another Targaryen now living inside these walls I did not feel right leaving that responsibility to a young lord. 

My son he may be, and he will do well. I have no doubt in that but leaving him with treason walking around these halls seemed like too much of an ask. 

Then the letter showed up, and I realized how much chaos, destruction and death could ensue if Jon Arryn died how I have grown to fear. 

I don’t think it is true and I definitely do not want it to be. But even if it has the smallest chance, I can’t leave my friend in that mess. If they killed Jon then Robert could easily be next. And his death would be my fault.

It did not help that most likely the next offer of Hand of the King would go to Tywin or Jaime Lannister.

I let out a sigh and rub my face hoping that will ease the pounding in my head. 

When I told Robert I accepted, his face lit up like it used to after a battle. It was the exact opposite reaction I got from Cat. 

From her all I got was anger and dismissal. 

We have barely spoken since and the only words we’ve exchanged have either been regarding the logistics of half the household leaving or her yelling at me not to go. 

But I have to. 

I look down at the list on my desk and any reprieve I had gotten from my head pounding went away. The list of what needed to be done seems to be endless. 

It covered everything from following up with Jory for the final count of how many household guards are coming, to checking with the kids to make sure they are getting packed and ready to go. 

Bran, Arya, and Sansa are all coming down south with me. Rickon is too small to travel and I obviously am not taking Robb with me so leaves my three middle children. 

That has been another thing Cat has not been happy with. She feels like I am taking all her kids away, which I am taking a majority that is true but her favorite is staying here in Winterfell with her so she’ll be fine. 

And plus it is not like it is goodbye forever. 

Bran had been relatively easy to convince. Sansa seemed excited about seeing the South but had been weary of staying in the Prince’s presence for longer than she had to, but I reassured her that there would be a guard with her at all times and she would not have to talk to him if she did not want to. 

It took a lot of my self-control not to bash the Prince’s head in every time I saw him since that horrible night all those weeks ago, but he unfortunately is the Prince so he got off on a crime that would have normally led to the minimum being sent to the Wall with a minor scolding. 

The hardest one of the three to convince unsurprisingly was Arya. 

And I don’t really think I convinced her as much as she resigned herself to her fate. She, unlike Sansa, has absolutely no interest in going South, which is not new. I just hope she doesn’t do anything crazy. 

_She is just like her aunt._

I look down the list in front of me and my eyes land on the top two underlined at the top. 

_Get Jon’s decision. Final check-in with Robb_

So much to do.

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I call and I am grateful to see Robb step through the door. “Ah perfect, I was just about to come find you.” 

“Here I am,” he says, sitting across from me. 

“How are you feeling?” I ask him and he shrugs. 

“Alright, it seems weird that you're leaving, I mean this time tomorrow I’m going to be Lord of Winterfell, it seems crazy.” 

Robb seems prepared to step in and with Luwin and Cat guiding him, he will be fine. I just want to make sure he knows that. 

_I’m lucky to have a son as great as him._

“You’re ready,” I say.

“I don’t think I will ever feel ready,” he says looking down.

“You never do, but you are. Trust your instincts and listen to the people around you and you will be fine,” I say reiterating what I have said to him hundreds of times before. “And remember any question or advice you need, I am only a letter away.”

He looks up at me and nods gratefully. 

_He is going to be a great Lord._

“Anything I can help with?” he asks, breaking the silence and I look back at the list in front of me. 

“Aye, could you go ask Jory if he has settled on how many of the household guard, we are bringing with us?”

“Sure,” he says standing and heading for the door. 

Just as he opens it, I call out his name and he looks back. 

“Before you do that, could you find Jon and tell him to come see me right now?” I ask.

He nods again and disappears out the door.   
_He is running out of time._

It has been 3 weeks since the fight, but it has been two weeks since I told the King I accepted the offer. At the feast the night after, the King called me up to his seat at the table and drunkenly started to ramble on and somehow semi coherently say what he was thinking. 

* * *

_“Have I told you how impressed I was with your bastard?” he stumbled out._

_“A few times yes, Your Grace,” I responded as graciously as I could even though it was actually a few hundred._

_“Well I tell you what, I want him,” he said and I was confused._

_Robert has a habit of speaking in half sentences when drunk._

_“Want him for what?” I asked nervously._

_“To become a Kingsguard,” he slurred as if it was obvious._

_Jon as a Kingsguard?_

_“I don’t know Your Grace,” I say but he was having none of it._

_“Nonsense, he gave the fucking Kingslayer a run for his money, that is the kind of swordsmen I want protecting the future of the Seven Kingdoms!” he said excitedly but I felt a familiar nervousness settle into my stomach._

_“I doubt that Jon would…” I start but he interrupts me._

_“Oh come on, ask him! I would make him a squire for one of the Seven currently serving and when a slot opens up it’s his. A kid in his position, what else could he ask for?”_

_“The Iron Throne,” I say bitterly to myself._

_I’m glad I haven't had too much rum or I might have accidentally said that out loud._

_“I will ask him,” I said to Robert and he nodded before downing another cup of the wine that was in front of him._

* * *

I do not want Jon coming down South with us. 

It’s not because he isn’t talented enough to be a Kingsguard because he proved that he could be but he is still a Targaryen. And a Targaryen should not even think about stepping foot in Kings Landing right now unless they have no choice. 

I considered not telling Jon at all but that didn’t sit well with me, denying him a chance at being a Kingsguard seemed like too big of a betrayal of his trust. 

_The irony that I am keeping something much bigger from him is not lost on me._

I was hoping that the King would not remember the offer the next day but he did unfortunately reask me so I was left with no choice.

I waited a few days before I brought Jon up to my office and laid out each of the options before him. 

The first one, come to Kings Landing and be a squire for a Kingsguard, setting him up to be the next one in line to join one of the most elite and historic forces in the Seven Kingdoms. 

He could also join the Nights Watch. It was something he has been wanting to do since he was a little boy and I would not doubt that he would already be there if I let him. A place to escape his bastard name. But the Wall came with another huge set of problems that Jon did not know about yet.

The third was the most simple and the most complex at the same time. Just stay here. Be here for Robb. Be here with Daenerys. Be with his family.

When I had brought Jon up to my office, what was now almost two weeks ago, to say he was shocked at the offer from the King was an understatement. He asked if the King had been joking and when I said no, he asked if the King meant somebody else. 

I don't know where he got all of his self-doubt from but every time, I hear it come from tumbling from his mouth I feel like it's the gods way of saying I failed Lyanna. 

Every time. 

I watched the scared 17-year-old boy in front of me process the information and I do not have any idea what he was going to say. 

I like to think that I can predict what most people, especially my children are going to respond with, but with a decision this big, I have no idea what Jon is going to want to do. 

Becoming a Kingsguard was an offer any normal bastard could only dream of and I could see Jon being unable to refuse that chance.

He is also very stubborn and could already have his heart set on joining the Nights Watch.

No doubt that would be what Cat wants, Jon away from every one of her children to the edge of the world, but unfortunately for her it was not her call. Even after I was gone, if Jon wants to stay, she would have to convince Robb to kick him out and I have a hard time seeing Robb ever doing that. The two of them are way too closely bonded. The Wildling fight only solidified it. 

Another knock on my door brings back to the present again. I call out and I see Jon walk tentatively into my office. 

“You wanted to see me Lord Stark,” Jon says and I feel the familiar stab of regret every time I hear him call me that. 

“Yes Jon, sit down,” I say. “I assume you know why I brought you up here?” 

He nods in response but looks very uncomfortable. 

“Have you reached a decision?” I ask and he looks down at his hands sitting in his lap. 

He then shakes his indicating no. 

“You are running out of time Jon, I know the King will want an answer by tonight,” I say. 

The King has been hounding me every day for an answer from Jon. 

Jon continues to look down for a few seconds before finally looking up at me. 

“I feel like I should take the Kingsguard off--” he starts but I interrupt him. 

“Should? Jon there is no should here. You do not need to come down to Kings Landing if you do not want to,” I say emphatically to him. 

“Once you leave Lord Stark, I know I will no longer be welcome here in Winterfell…” he starts but I interrupt him again. 

“You will always be welcome here Jon,” I say softly and he looks at me with scared eyes. “If you want to stay in Winterfell, I know Robb would be happy to have you. And if you do choose to stay, he will need someone like you by his side.” 

Jon looks up at me confused so I continue. 

“There is something coming Jon, I do not know what it is or where it is coming from but it is coming. And when it does, Robb will need everyone he can find by his side, especially you Jon.” 

“He has Theon,” Jon says demoralized and I scoff at the statement. 

“Theon is an ass and he is not a Stark, he is a Greyjoy.” 

Jon looks up at me. 

“I’m not a Stark,” he says hurt. 

“You may not have my name, but you have my blood,” I say to him and he looks away from me but I can see tears in his eyes. 

I can tell he is trying to say something but is having trouble getting out so I let him take his time. I fear what he is trying to ask but I let him gather himself all the same. 

“Is my mother alive? Does she know about me? Where I am, what I’m doing?” he asks each question right after the other before pausing. 

“Does she care?” he asks and my heart breaks a little bit as I look at the boy who has lost more than he can ever imagine. 

_Oh how I wish I could tell you Jon, but I can’t, definitely not now._

“After we leave tomorrow, the next time we meet again, we’ll talk about your mother. I promise,” I say as heartfelt as I can. 

I see him shake his head in agreement but I can see a little anger in his eyes. He wants to know so desperately, but the truth could kill him. 

Literally. 

“I need a little more time,” Jon says and I nod. 

He stands and makes his way out of the room and as soon as he is out of sight, I wipe the tears that had started to form in my eyes. 

I take a deep breath and pull myself together before returning to the stack of paperwork in front of me that needs to get done. 

I bury my head in that for a little while until I am interrupted by yet another knock at my door. 

I let out a sigh before calling the person to come in. 

I see my wife come in and gently shut the door behind her and I smile. Despite our fighting, I really do love her and I smile bigger when she smiles at me in return. 

She sits in front of me and looks down at her hands. 

“Is the feast all ready for tonight?” I ask and she nods. 

“Yep, we are ready, although after all this, we are going to need some more wine. Lord Tyrion and the King have drunk half our supply by themselves.”

I chuckle at the comment and she smiles. Though the smile quickly fades I know what is coming next. 

“Don’t start in Cat,” I say preemptively.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she said, offended. 

“You were going to try and convince me not to go but I told you I made up my mind, I can’t back out now.” 

“We need you here Ned,” she says desperately and I roll my eyes. 

“And my friend needs me there. If that letter is true and I ignore it and the King winds up dead, his death would be my fault. I cannot betray my friend and KING like that!” I say my anger rising and she huffs, turning away but staying seated. 

“Robb will do a good job in my absence, but he will need your help. And Luwin’s,” I say before bracing myself for the next part of my sentence. “And Jon’s should he decide to stay.” 

Cat’s eyes shoot to mine immediately and I can tell she is angry. 

_Anyone could tell that._

“The bastard is not staying here once you leave, I will not have it!” she says standing sending the chair flying backwards. 

“First that bastard is my son and second that is not your decision to make!” I say raising my own voice. 

“He has stayed here long enough walking around rubbing my face in your betrayal for 17 years. It is time for him to leave. I don’t care if it is to the Wall or to King's Landing but he cannot stay here.” 

“That is not your call,” I say slowly, emphasizing each word. “If Jon wants to stay, then it would be Robb’s call whether to kick him out or not, not yours. How do you think that conversation will go?” 

I can tell she is trying to think of something to solve her problem but is coming up empty. She turns angrily and throws open the door before slamming behind her on the way out. 

I let out a groan as the pounding returns to my head. 

_Another fire I am leaving for Robb to deal with, he is going to have his hands full._

I rub my face trying to keep the exhaustion that is creeping into my muscles from taking its hold over me and focusing back on my list of things to do. 

Hand of the King. 

I am Hand of the King. 

I let out another groan. 

_I hope I am making the right choice._

* * *

**Jaime POV**

Three days and nothing. 

The kid actually kept his mouth shut. 

I should have shoved him out the window, that would have been the smart thing. But I couldn’t. 

Looking into his eyes I couldn’t. 

I thought about the Targaryen children, faces unrecognizable from the Mountain’s brutality and I could not push the kid out the window. 

Most everyone was out on a hunt and Cersei and I thought we could steal some time away together. What we did not expect was the Stark kid to climb all the way up the side of the tower. 

No one could have seen that coming.

I was too lost in Cersei’s pussy, months of having to see or but not touch left me strained and it wasn’t until her panicked voice reached my ears that I looked at what had her frozen in fear. 

I have been mad and disbelieving but I couldn’t help myself. 

_Curse the gods for making me love a selfish, gorgeous women._

The young Stark looked quite confused as I held onto his shirt and it was clear he did not know what was going on. 

But someone else could put it together. 

I should have pushed him out the window and let him fall. 

Hope the fall kills him. 

But I couldn’t. 

I have been thinking about the Targaryens a lot more recently, the reason why is unsurprising.

Throughout the fight, the small kink in his swing went unnoticed by me, but then all in one moment the realization hit me and I froze. 

Shocked. 

Floored.

The Stark bastard, the one thing that was a stain on the honorable Lord Stark’s honor was all a sham. 

He never had a bastard.

He had a nephew. 

I was able to refocus but after the fight I almost stormed up to Lord Stark demanding answers, luckily Tyrion saved me from doing that by not letting me leave until I got checked out, which gave me time to cool down. 

Tyrion wanted to know why I had frozen but I could not tell him. I couldn’t tell anybody. I now had the power to have Lord Stark killed but the Targaryen children came back to my mind again and the wrath of Robert would extend past just Lord Stark. 

And I could not have their blood on my hands. 

So I said nothing. 

At the feast that night I met eyes with Lord Stark and I think he knows I put it together but I’m not sure. 

And just like I haven’t forgiven myself for betraying Prince Rhaegar for not protecting his children, I could not have the young Stark’s life on my conscience. Cersei wanted me to, she didn’t have to say it out loud for me to know that is what she wanted. And the tongue lashing I received afterwards made that quite clear as well. 

But I looked into his eyes and the fear was unmistakable and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So we made a deal. 

I asked what he thought we were doing and he said he thought we were wrestling which almost made me laugh but I told him he was right. And I was able to convince him that he did not need to tell anybody. 

The kid is ten years old. 

If I can’t outfox a ten-year-old, I should just kill myself right now. 

It has been three days since then and he has not told anyone, or if he has no one is doing anything about it which I highly doubt would happen. 

And if he has not told anyone by now, he probably is going to. 

That has not kept Cersei from threatening to kill him but I would not even hear it. He is 10 years old. Only two years younger than Tommen. 

It was bad timing but I think it is behind us. 

Besides, even if he did say something, who would believe him. 

The word of two Lannisters versus a 10-year-old kid, come on. 

I let out a sigh as I looked at the courtyard where I had beaten the bastard a few weeks ago. Now the courtyard was taken up with the climber and my son going through sword lessons together. 

Tommen is not very good but I told him we could start lessons when we get back to the Capital and he seemed excited. And I am definitely looking forward to the tome with my son, even if he does not know it.

Tommen and the climber have become remarkably close during our stay here and Tommen was very excited to hear that Bran would be traveling back down South with us. Myrcella has also grow close with the boy and I cannot lie and say that the devastation and fear on their faces were not part of the reason I did not push the kid out the window.

The whole situation is not ideal I admit, but the look of utter joy on Tommen’s face as he knocks the Stark to the ground is worth it. 

_I hope I made the right choice._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed it! 
> 
> Next week should be an interesting chapter and will include a key jonerys scene! ;)
> 
> Let me know how I did!


	23. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany hears Jon may leave for Kings Landing and sets out to see if it is true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another chapter! 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I do!

**Dany POV**

I let out a loud groan as my eyes search aimlessly around the room. 

Again. 

I feel like if I have to stay in this room for another second, I am going to go insane. 

The room is bland, the air is stale, and the books are boring. 

The pile of books I have read would be as tall as I am if it could stack that high without coming crumbling down. I know I have tried it, but it always tips by the time it gets even with my shoulders. 

I like reading, I mean I couldn’t have read that many books if I didn’t, but if I pick up another one, I will rip it to shreds. 

Thank god it is almost over!

One more day then I will get to breathe fresh air again. 

To be able to eat at a table instead of crouched over my bed. 

It will be bittersweet. 

While I will be so relieved to be able to walk out of this room, that means that Lord Stark, Arya, Sansa, and Bran have all departed for the South. 

I am sad that neither of the girls will be around, I have grown very fond of them. Although Arya is starting to grate on my nerves a little bit each time she visits practically bouncing off the walls. 

That might be because I have been stuck in a room for months and her limitless energy is a lot to deal with. Though she has been a lot more downtrodden her last few visits. She is not happy to be traveling to Kings Landing. That is all she has talked, well complained about.

It makes sense, I don’t think she will fit in very well in the South. And she loves it here in the North. 

Free and open.

_I think she is most disappointed that she will not get another sword lesson from Jon._

Sansa on the other hand is very excited to be going to Kings Landing. The only thing she is concerned about is being in the Prince’s presence for longer than she has to. She is worried he might try something again.

I have tried to tell her and reassure her that he won’t but we both know that I can’t guarantee that. And after what she went through, she has every right to be terrified of him. Just thinking about it gives me a sick feeling in my stomach, I can’t imagine how she is feeling. 

Especially if she has to see him walking around freely when he deserves to have a sword run through his stomach. 

Or somewhere else.

I let out a breath and took another pointless look around my room. 

_You are lucky to be here._

Every time my mind starts to think that I wish I was somewhere else I repeat that small sentence in my head. Because while I might be sick and tired of looking at these four walls, I am damn lucky to be here.

I could be in a lot worse places than surrounded by these walls in a castle full of people I am more and more considering my family.

_It is not lost on me that one of the worst places I think of being is back with my brother who is my actual family._

My thoughts are interrupted by an excited knock on my door and I have a guess as to who is on the other side. 

“Come in,” I call and my guess is correct as Arya steps inside the room with a big smile on her face.

“Wow, I have not seen you smile that big in a long time. Is Lord Stark allowing you to stay here?” I ask. 

“No,” she says disappointed for a second before looking back at me with excited eyes. “But something almost as exciting is happening. It sounds like Jon might be coming South with us!” 

The sentence hits me harder than I want it to. 

The black-haired boy who has been a constant tormentor of my thoughts is leaving. Some of which were more forbidden than I wanted them to be. 

_That is not to say that I didn’t indulge in them all the same._

Jon is leaving? 

The thought fills me with sadness, rage, and a sense of betrayal.   
_Jon is not allowed to leave me. No, he is supposed to stay here. With me._

There is something about him that has drawn me to him from the second I looked into his eyes. Something that called to me. 

And the more and more I have gotten to know the broody, quiet boy, the more and more I seemed to be trapped under his spell. And the most terrifying part was that I know I do not want to try and escape from it. 

But now he is leaving without even saying goodbye?

“Dany?” a voice asks and I look down at Arya who has a confused look on her face. “I said Jon might be coming South with us and your face went blank. Are you okay?” 

I shake my head and look back at her, trying to get my brain refocused. 

“I don’t know,” I say quietly before shaking my head again. “I’m fine I just got lost in thought. How do you know Jon’s going South? Did he tell you?” 

“No, I was walking to the feast and overheard Father and Jory talking about getting Jon’s room packed for the trip South.” 

I give her a disapproving look because I know what overheard really means for her. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped on them but if I happened to be following them and listening to their conversation, is it really my fault they were talking to loudly.” 

I shake my head as I chuckle at the young girls antics.

“So Jon is going South,” I muse and she shakes her head enthusiastically. 

“Isn’t it great?” she asks. 

“Yeah,” I force out even though the lump in my throat makes it hard. 

I try not to let my brain get bogged down by the thoughts of sadness and anger that are now clouding it but I can’t help it.

Luckily, Arya didn’t let me sit in silence for too long.

“Well, I should get to the feast, it is starting soon. Luckily, I got my clothes already folded and put in my trunk,” Arya says with an eye roll. 

“Alright, make sure you come say goodbye to me before you leave,” I say. 

Arya had started to turn towards the door but stopped and looks back at me for a second before taking two steps forward and wrapping me in a hug. 

I feel a smile spread on my face as she squeezes around my waist. I reach around and hug her back, bringing her closer to me. 

_She really is sweet._

“Thanks,” I hear her whisper into my stomach. 

“For what?” I ask looking down at her. 

“For being the sister that I have always wished for. Sure, I’m closer with Sansa now, but she still does not get me, not like you do,” she says arms still wrapped around me. 

“Your welcome,” I say softly and just for a minute all the mashed feelings swirling in me about Jon leaving and is replaced by a simple contentment. 

We stay there for a few more seconds before she lets out a sad sigh and steps back. 

“If I don’t show up soon, Father might make me wear a dress on the ride down South,” she says making her way towards the door again.

The closing of the door behind her brings the flood of sadness and anger and confusion back into my stomach and I start pacing back and forth in my room. 

Jon is leaving. 

And he didn’t even tell me about it. 

I guess we weren’t as close as I thought we were. 

No Jon would tell me if he was leaving me! Or at least someone would have told me before now. 

“Ugghhhh,” I let out in frustration. 

I want answers but all my thoughts seem to be a jumbled mess right now and the confinement of my room is not making it any better. 

I try to take a deep breath and steady myself but I feel tears start to prick at the back of my eyes. I almost ask myself why I am crying but I know the answer already, even if I do not want to accept it. 

I love Jon. 

It is something my heart knows but my brain refuses to accept. 

Because I’m scared. 

No terrified. 

All of my life has been surrounded by death and running and terror. 

Then I’m kidnapped, and I’m here and this gorgeous boy comes riding in to save the day, it is something out a novel Sansa would read. 

But this isn’t a story like that. This is real life. 

And my life has taught me if I get too close to Jon, or anybody else, they are going to leave or get killed. All my family dead, except Viserys but he barely thought I could make a single decision for myself. All of our Kingsguard, men who gave their lives so two small broke children could run around the free cities from cutthroats that were sent after them by a Usurper.

And from the moment he burrowed his way into my heart, I have been terrified that Jon is going to do the same thing. 

Leave. 

Now it sounds like he actually might. 

Leave me behind for Kings Landing. 

A _rotten_ place. 

The past few months that I have been in Winterfell have been the best months of my life. It is not because of the freedom that has come with being out from under Viserys’ thumb, 

It is not because of Sansa and Arya who I have grown to care passionately for. 

It is not because of Lord Stark who has welcomed me with open arms when he had absolutely no reason to. 

It’s Jon. 

He knows me more than I thought anyone ever could. He is there to share a knowing humorous look when Arya does something hilarious but it is not appropriate to laugh. He is there to listen and not judge me whenever I have something, I want to get off my chest. 

Being in Winterfell is amazing, but I know it is Jon that makes it so much fun and makes it feel like...home. 

And I am going to lose him.

_No it is not true!_

Yes it is and I might kill him. 

My brain can’t seem to decide if it wants to live in denial that it is not happening or if it wants to be angry that it is. My entire body seems to just be whirling with loneliness, anger, and confusion and I cannot form a complete coherent thought. 

I don’t want to learn to live without him. I can, I just don’t want to. I went 17 years without him in my life, I don’t plan on that number growing anytime soon. 

Then a bad idea pops into my mind. 

_I could just go ask him._

The feast has started by now so everyone will be there and if I know Jon like I think I do, he is not there but is most likely swinging away at the poor dummy.

I know it is a bad idea, but I don’t think I can stay in this room anymore because it is starting to feel smaller and smaller by the minute. I have not been able to get and keep a complete thought for hours and somehow, I just know that seeing Jon, even if he is leaving will calm me down.

_No one makes me feel safe like Jon._

Before I can talk myself out of it I grab Jon’s massive cloak he loaned to me the day we met and throw it on over my shoulders, pulling it so it is draping over my head, hiding the increasing number of blonde hairs shining through my dark hair. 

I look at myself in the mirror and decide I am concealed enough that no one could wonder who I am unless I talk to them and there is only one person I want to talk to. 

It is not lost on me that a hastily thrown together thought process very similar to this got me kidnapped back in Essos all those months ago, but I shove that aside. 

I walk to my door and open it before I can think to do anything else and set off in search of Jon. 

I don’t know what I will feel when I see him but my guess is it will be one of two things. 

Terrible sadness or the more likely…

Targaryen anger. 

**Jon POV**

I take another hard swing at the dummy and it lands right where I want it to. 

Simple. 

Exact. 

I let out a short angry breath as I finish my latest barrage. 

I came down here right after my latest meeting with Lord Stark hoping that getting my mind off of it would somehow present a solution but I still have no idea what I should do. 

My entire body seems to just be whirling with loneliness, confusion, and anger. 

So I came down here, to where everything is simple and makes sense. Swing your sword, hit the dummy. That’s it. 

No major life altering decisions. No big unbelievable offers. No complex thinking.

Just a man, a dummy, and a sword.

I start another barrage of strikes against the poor dummy, letting my pent up anger and indecision pour into each swing of the sword. 

I eventually let up as my arms begin to fatigue too much and my breathing becomes too erratic. 

I have no idea what I should do. 

I mean I have been offered a chance to become a Kingsguard. It is an offer any bastard would dream of receiving. A chance to squire for a Kingsguard and be in line for one of the most historic forces in the history of the Seven Kingdoms. To be named with the likes of Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy. 

And that would mean being able to stay with Arya, Sansa, Bran and Father. I would be able to protect them. 

I feel like I _should_ take that offer. 

But that means leaving Winterfell and all that comes with it. Robb, the North, normalcy. 

_Dany._

I could also go to the Wall. 

It is something I have longed to do my entire life. To join the ancient order of the Nights Watch. To go to a place where my bastard name does not mean anything. A place where I can forge my own place. 

But that means saying goodbye to everyone in my family and joining a new one. Saying goodbye to freedom, to being able to protect my siblings. 

_And Dany._

I could also stay here. 

Sure Arya, Sansa, Bran, and Father are all leaving but it is not forever and at least here I would have the ability to go and see them if I wanted to and I would get to stay in the place where I grew up, stay In my home. With Robb, my brother and best friend.

_And Dany._

But there is one big obstacle to staying here. And unfortunately there is no changing her mind. I mean Robb could override her authority but that is a horrible and selfish position to put anyone, let alone my own brother in. 

I don’t know if I can ask him to choose me over his own Mother. 

And that would be what I would be asking of him.

At least if I go South, I will still be with my family, not all of them, but some of them. And I could protect them. I mean Lord Stark is taking over half of the household guard with him down South so it is not like they wouldn’t be safe already. 

_But I would be leaving Dany._

I let out a groan and swing at the dummy a few more times. 

I still have no clue what the right decision is. 

It feels like a tug of war between what I should do, what I would have done and what I want but can't have. 

And I don’t know what side is going to win but there better be a decision pretty quick because I’m running out of time. 

I should probably just take the Kingsguard offer. 

I hear my thought in my head and I say it almost with resignation. And even the thought of doing that, it just doesn’t feel right. 

But it is what I should do. 

Father may have said that there is no should here but there is, who gets an offer to be a Kingsguard and turns it down. 

The list is very short I’m sure. 

I let out another groan and start swinging at the dummy again. 

_I don’t want to go to Kings Landing._

The thought interrupts my swinging and surprises me but before I can process what it means I hear a door opening behind me. The low hum of noise coming from the Great Hall more than doubles. 

I turn and see an already slightly drunk Robb come stumbling out into the cold Northern Air. 

“The lies with you just keep growing don’t they,” he says with a smile but my eyes scrunch in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you would finally grace us with your presence at the final feast, you bitching out on me?” he asks with a smile coming closer. 

_Oh, I did say that._

“Sorry, I started swinging and lost track of time.” 

“Go figure,” he says and I start to clean up the gear around me as he leans along a post at the edge of the courtyard. “So what did Father want to talk about?” 

The question is not surprising as he already asked me this exact question hours earlier when he came and found me but I was able to skirt around answering then. Something tells me that this time I would not be as lucky. 

“Not much, just checking in,” I say trying to deflect but it doesn’t work. Unfortunately for me alcohol does not diminish his ability to detect when I am lying. 

“You know you keep trying to lie to me lately. Come on what did he want,” he asks standing up to full height as I finish gathering the practice swords thrown around the yard. 

I stop a second to consider how I should answer this but I don’t get a chance. 

“Was it about the Kingsguard offer?” he asks and I cannot hide the shock on my face. 

_I didn’t want anyone to know about that._

“Oh come on, my brother gets offered a chance to be a Kingsguard inside my own castle, you think that I wasn’t going to find out about it,” he says like it is obvious, which it kind of is. 

“I can hope can’t I,” I say and he chuckles. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with a smile. 

“Because I don’t know if I am going to accept it or not and if I didn’t, I would just have created a stir for nothing,” I say. 

“Why wouldn’t you accept it? An offer like that does not come around every day. Especially for someone like you,” he says. 

Almost anyone else and I would have taken strong offense to that, but I know Robb is just stating a fact and does not mean it in a negative way. 

“Do you see me and the South mixing well?” I say back to him. 

“Fuck the South, it isn’t about that. You would be a Kingsguard!” he says excitedly and I feel disappointment rise in me. 

_This is exactly why I did not want him finding out._

Now I am back to feeling like I should take it because he is right. What idiot turns down a chance to be a Kingsguard. 

He must see my reservation as his grin slips a little. 

“Well if you don’t take it, what would you do?” he asks seriously. 

“I don’t know,” I say. 

“You still considering freezing your ass off at the Wall?” he asks with a raise of the eyebrow. 

“Thinking about it,” I say and he shakes his head in disbelief before approaching me. 

“Well whatever you decide, you know I’ll be with you,” he says. 

_Will you, even if I ask you to disobey your Mother?_

I almost feel myself ask the question but I am able to stop myself. 

“But hey,” he says grabbing my shoulders. “Do you know what is not a hard life altering decision?” 

I raise my eyebrow in question. 

“Coming to the feast, sitting down and having a drink with me,” I start to raise an objection but he shushes me. “Before you say anything about not being allowed up there, fuck that! You're my brother and you sit where you want. Do you really think the King would be offended to see you sitting at almost the same level as him?” 

_It is not the King I am worried about._

He says the last part with a laugh and I am able to keep my thoughts off my face and manage a smile back. 

“Aye, let me finish cleaning up, then I’ll be right in,” I say and he slaps me on the shoulder. 

“Okay! You know where to find me,” he says with a smile before striding out of the yard. 

As the door closes behind him, I look around the supposedly empty yard. Throughout our conversation I got this strange feeling like we were being watched. I look back to see a cloaked figure standing at the entrance to the courtyard. I recognize the cloak the person is wearing.

_Is that my cloak?_

“Dany?” I ask quietly. 

The person removes the hood and my heart skips a beat as my guess turns out to be right. 

The dark hair is slowly giving way to her natural blonde but the beautiful face that has been carved deep into my mind looks the same no matter the color of her hair. 

But her face is set in a different way than usual. 

I have seen her look scared, happy and everything in between but the look on her face can only be described as anger. 

And I have never seen her angry before. 

“You shouldn't be here,” I say, taking a step closer but she doesn't respond. 

_What is going on?_

“Is it true?” she asks.

I know exactly what she is talking about, somehow, but I don’t want to give something away if I’m wrong.

“Is what true?” I ask and she rolls her eyes. 

“Were you really not going to tell me you were leaving?” she asks, still keeping her face set in anger but I can feel the sadness behind the question. 

_Why would she assume I am leaving?_

I let out a sigh. 

_She really shouldn’t be out here._

“You know why don’t we go to your room to do…” I say trying to get her back to safety but she cuts me off. 

“Everyone is at the feast! There is no one around! You are not getting out of this!” she says and I am taken aback by the force and passion in her voice. 

_She is so beautiful when she gets like this._

Focus! 

“Are you leaving for Kings Landing tomorrow?” she asks, her eyes boring into me. 

I disengage and look at the ground. 

“I should,” I say when nothing else comes to mind. 

_Man coming at me with a sword, no problem. Talk to Dany coherently, brain gone._

“And you weren’t even going to tell me? You were just going to leave? Leave and never come back without even so much as a goodbye?” she asks and I can almost see the flames of anger dancing in her eyes. 

Both her stance and voice are confrontational and somehow that clicks my brain back into place. 

“Look I don’t know how you found out about this…” 

“Arya told me but it should have come from you.” 

_Arya! Sometimes you are more trouble than you're worth._

“Well I don’t know what Arya heard but I haven’t fucking decided what I am doing yet! But I promise you I would not have done anything without talking to you, you’re too important to me.” 

“Important to you, you’re leaving me! Just like everyone else!” 

_You’re the only reason why I am considering saying no._

“I don’t know if I’m leaving or not!” I say raising my voice. 

“Oh yeah like you are going to say no to the chance to be a member of the all important Kingsguard,” she says sarcastically. 

“I might,” I say stubbornly.

“Sure, what possible reason could there be…” she starts but I cut her off. 

I can’t keep it in anymore. One word is all it is going to take to either lose her or by some miracle get an answer I could only dream of. 

“You!”

I shout it against the quiet of the night and she stops mid sentence. 

“What?” the word comes out a whisper, her voice quivering. 

_She's not immediately running the other way so that’s a good sign._

“It’s you,” I say. 

“What do you mean it’s me?” she asks the anger in her face having transformed into shock, her voice sounding like it is being forced out. 

_I have never been good with words but here it goes._

“You’re right, I should want to go South. I should want to be a member of the Kingsguard. It is something every bastard only dreams of. But I don’t. I think about leaving for Kings Landing or the Wall and not being able to see you anytime I want and it makes me sick. I want to stay here with you, but I can’t.” 

The words hang between us for a few seconds and she doesn’t say anything. 

_I messed this up. Why did I open my mouth? I am so stupid!_

I know when it is time to make a retreat. 

_She could never see me when I’m next to Robb._

I look down at the ground and close my eyes.

“Look I know that you don’t feel anywhere near the same so I’m just going t--” I am cutoff. 

Not by words. 

But by a brilliantly soft hand sliding its way onto my face. 

My eyes fly open and I look up to find Dany directly in front of me with a small smile on her face. 

She doesn’t speak, she just uses her hand on my cheek to pull me closer. 

My brain does not want to believe what is happening, but before I even realize my lips are on hers and I am drawn into a mind blowing kiss. 

It is not frenzied and passionate but slow and loving as I try to push all of what I fail to say in words into her lips and I feel her respond in kind. 

I feel both us trying to control the kiss but at the same time welcome the others will. 

I wish we could have stayed there forever but breathing became extremely necessary so we broke apart panting. 

I laid my forehead against hers and I let out a relieved chuckle and she raised her head and smiled her beautiful smile at me. 

“You really need to pay attention Jon Snow if you think I don’t feel the same way as you.”

Not being able to help myself, and working off instinct instead of any actual thought, I leaned down and captured her lips again for a short kiss. 

When we break apart, she is still smiling up at me. 

_What about Robb?_

The thought interrupts my total bliss and reality hits me again. 

“Dany,” I say quietly and she looks at me seriously. “I want to stay here with you, more than anything but there is no way I will be able to.” 

She looks at me both confused and hurt so I continue. 

“Tomorrow Lord Stark is leaving for Kings Landing,” I start. 

“Yeah...” she says, still confused.

“Once he is gone there is no way Lady Stark will allow m--,” she cuts me off. 

“When Lord Stark leaves Robb will assume control of the castle.” 

“I could never ask him to choose me over her,” I say looking down but she adjusts so she is still looking up at me. 

“You wouldn’t be, you would be asking him to allow his best friend to stay. He wouldn’t care what Catelyn had to say. If she got her way Robb would hate you and treat you the way Sansa did. But he didn’t care about that then and he certainly won’t now.” 

_Maybe she is right._

I feel a small smile spread on my face and bring Dany into my chest wanting to hold her like I have dreamed probably a thousand times by now. I hear her let out a content sigh before she steps back and looks at me again. 

“And hey, even if Robb says you can’t stay for some dumb reason and you do have to leave, don’t you think for a second that I wouldn’t be standing right next to you as you walked out those gates. You are the first person that has ever made me feel safe and happy and protected. You are the most important person in my life. And I am not willing to give you up anytime soon,” I should be more shocked at her words but she says it so simply and with such force that I know without a doubt that she means it. 

Instead of responding I pull her into another kiss.

And where there has always been a feeling of loneliness and resentment is now filled with peace and tranquility. 

When we break off, I pull into my chest again and let out a sigh of simple happiness. 

_I will not leave her. I just hope Robb lets us be here._

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!”

A loud piercing scream comes from the Great Hall and breaks our perfect moment. 

_Something bad just happened._

I feel her tense beside me and I know I need to go see what is going on but I also know she can't follow. 

I look down at her

“I have to go see what is going on, you head back to your room, I will come see you tonight, I promise,” I say pleading with her with my eyes to agree. 

I know she doesn’t want to go run and hide when there might be a situation where she can help but for everyone's safety and her own, she needs to go and she knows that. 

“Okay,” she says sadly but I pull her in for a quick kiss before regretfully stepping out of her comforting presence. 

It registers in the back of my mind how crazy it is that I can kiss her with no fear of her rejecting me. 

It seems so easy and simple and...natural. 

I start walking purposefully toward the Great Hall and I feel her make her way toward the opposite staircase toward the Stark rooms. 

I let out a sigh and continue walking toward the Great Hall. 

Just as I am about to reach the door Master Luwin throws the door open with Arya following quickly behind him. 

“What’s going on?” I ask urgently. 

“Follow me,” he says leaving no room for arguing and I fall into step with them, Arya slightly jogging to keep up. 

I notice tears prickling at her eyes but she seems to be holding them back. 

“What is going on?” I ask again as we walk and Master Luwin lets out a sigh picking up the pace almost running now. 

“Bran and Prince Tommen have been poisoned.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? No drama in this chapter at all right? ;)
> 
> Tell me what you thought! 
> 
> See you all next week!


	24. The Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb finds his way back into the feast when something happens to turn everything on it's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! I am so sorry, I thought I hit publish on this yesterday! That is my bad! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter nonetheless.

**Robb POV**

I shut the door to the courtyard behind me and I feel the dramatic shift in temperature. Outside it is nice, refreshing, and comfortable, at least for me, but in here it is hot, stuffy, and crowded. 

Jon shouldn’t be too far behind me, if I have to go out and find him again, I am going to drag him in here by his ear. 

I am not letting him leave without us having one final drink together. I mean he leaves tomorrow, whether for the Wall or Kings Landing I don’t know but after tomorrow things will never be the same again. 

Arya, Sansa, and Bran are all leaving and I will just have Theon and Rickon left to keep me company. 

_I wish Jon could stay._

I know Mother would not be very happy but who cares, she has put up with him for this long, would it really make a difference if she had to put up with him a little longer. She won’t see it that way, but if Jon wants to stay, he’ll stay. 

Between all the shit with Lannisters this trip and the Targaryen that is upstairs, I am going to need all the help I can get. Having Luwin around will be helpful, and Mother’s experience as well might be helpful but I do not trust her as much as I did. 

Something is going on with her and Jon and I have not been able to figure it out yet, but I will. Mother’s cryptic gaze at the end of the glorified sparring session is not far from thoughts, neither is the deep anger I heard in her voice the day the Royal Party arrived.

But while Luwin, Mother and even having Theon around might help over the next few months as I transition into being a Lord, I trust no one more than Jon. Theon will tell me the truth but he constantly wants everyone to like him so telling hard truths is not his forte. Jon will tell me what he is thinking no matter what, whether he thinks it will make me mad or not. 

And it will help to have that around, make sure I don’t get too big of a head. 

But if he wants to leave, I am not going to stop him, I could see why he would want to. He is Jon Snow the bastard here, even if I don’t see him that way, a lot of other people do. And that cannot be easy.

I let out a sigh and focus on the room around me. 

There are a lot of people and there is music and dancing going on but I don’t see any of it. I just see the Great Hall. The room where we have had thousands of meals as a family. I think about the castle beyond and how many great memories I have in the castle. 

And tomorrow it is mine. 

I do not think it has fully hit me yet that I am going to become acting Lord of Castle tomorrow, that father will not be there for me to differ to. It will all be on me. 

_Let’s not go there now._

I look at the people dancing again and I realize Jon still isn’t here. 

I should get up and go and get him but something is telling me to stay put and I have learned to trust my instincts so I stay seated and take a good look around me. 

Arya is sitting at the table in front of me, looking mad at the world that she is having to sit in here, in a dress no less. I know she is not very happy to be leaving for Kings Landing but she does not really have a choice. 

Sansa, who is sitting next to Jeyne, I know isn’t as happy as she has been to be leaving for the South but I know she still can’t wait to see it. Sansa and Arya have a long history of fighting and bickering but they seem to have really gotten a lot closer since Sansa was attacked. No doubt Dany is partially responsible for that. 

I don‘t love that they are both leaving but at least I don’t have to worry about them turning on each other anymore. 

I look further down the table and see Bran sitting with the Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen. The three of them have gotten awfully close in their time here and I’m sure Bran is the one Stark really looking forward to the trip South. 

The three of them are talking animatedly and Prince Tommen says something that makes all three of them laugh. I feel a smile spread on my face at the innocence and carefree nature of the three of them and internally wish for them to carry it with them for as long as they can. 

As I am watching as a servant approaches the table with a new drink for Bran just as a Lannister guard approaches. I cannot hear what the guard says but based on his hand gestures, wants the Prince and Princess to follow him. 

The princess shakes her head in agreement and begins to stand but Prince Tommen resumes speaking with Bran who takes a sip of his new drink. 

For some reason I cannot let myself look away from the weird scene developing in front of me, the guard insists again that the Prince come with him but the young waves him off again returning to his story. 

The guard finally retreats with the Princess leaving Bran and the Prince at the table. I see Bran get a weird look on his face after taking a sip of his drink and holds it out for the Prince to try, the interaction has lost its intrigue to me and looks around the room again. Father is talking to the King at the center of the high table. 

_Jon is taking too long._

I am about to get up from the table when somehow, I hear Arya’s voice ring despite the cacophony of noise in the room. 

“Bran are you okay?” Arya asks, concern very apparent in her voice. 

I look back over at Bran. He is stumbling out of his seat and walking towards the high table, but his steps are slow and wobbly. 

It looks like he has had about seven cups of wine, which he obviously hasn’t. 

“Bran,” I hear Mother call out but he cannot seem to hear her, as he continues stumbling forward. 

I start to walk towards him but before I can reach him, he trips on something and starts to fall. It feels like everything happens slowly. 

I try to lunge out to him but he falls too quickly and hits his head hard on the grand metal hearth at the front of the room and falls to the ground unconscious, his face turning a sickly blue and his arms trembling slightly. 

I pull him up off the ground but am shoved out of the way as Mother takes over holding Bran, tears running down her face, wiping the hair from his face and shrieking his name uncontrollably.

There is a frenzy around us but I do not hear it, as I feel a large sick weight settle into my stomach and I feel like I might throw up. 

_Bran, what is wrong?_

My brain is flying all around trying to figure what the fuck is going on. 

Father is soon right by my side with Sansa and Arya standing behind him. Bran has started to thrash more and nothing can seem to make it stop. 

Just when I think it can’t get any more insane, another loud shriek comes from behind me. I instinctually turn around and see the Kingslayer holding his nephew close to him and I see the young Prince’s face turning the same sickly blue that Bran did and his arms start to thrash around as well. 

“MOVE!” 

The word is said with force and volume which is necessary to be heard over all the chaos around us. I look up and see Luwin moving faster than I have ever seen him. 

He kneels next to Bran who continues to thrash in his Mother's arms and his face getting more and more pale and is turning slightly green.

I hear the Queen behind me pleading with her son to not go. I spare a glance over and see the King move faster than I thought possible to move next to his son, shoving thorough Lannister and Stark people alike until he is hovering above the Prince with tears in his eyes. 

Everything around me has my head spinning. 

I want to help. 

I need to help. 

But I just have no idea what I should do. 

Luckily, there is someone who does. 

“ARYA, FOLLOW ME,” Luwin shouts before turning to Father. “Keep him on his side, he is going to start foaming in his mouth soon, do not let it clog his airways.” 

Father nods, wiping the tears from his eyes before grabbing Bran from Mother’s arms and doing as Luwin said. 

I see Luwin go and say something similar to the Kingslayer, the Kingsguard quickly wipes the tears that had formed in his eyes and sets to doing as the Maester said. 

“TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” the King bellows.

“DON’T LEAVE MY SON! YOU FIX HIM,” the Queen shouts as Luwin retreats from the hall. I don’t know how Luwin could not have heard either the King or Queen but he continues hurriedly from the room as if he hadn’t, Arya right behind him as he requested of her. 

I feel tears leak from my own eyes as I look down at my baby brother, barely ten years old. 

_Why is this happening?_

I look on at Bran, unable to tear my eyes away. I reach out and wrap my arms around Sansa, who is standing next to me also with tears rolling down her face. 

It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds before, just as Luwin said, ugly gut-wrenching green foam started to worm its way out of his mouth. 

Father starts to wipe it away but you can’t tell as more immediately takes its place. Mother lets out another pained cry before trying to reach out again to comfort her child.

“Don’t!” Father shouts. 

I look at him and I can see tears behind his eyes but other than that his face is set in an emotionless mask. One I have seen a few times when he would spar with me. 

Benjen described it as his soldier face. 

Mother tries to reach forward again as Father continues wiping away the foam from Bran’s mouth, but now Bran seems to be jerking more and more around, making it harder on Father. 

“Robb!” Father says urgently and without even thinking I drop to the floor across from him and in front of Mother, since it is clear her presence is not helping Father. 

“Try and keep him still,” he orders me and I place both my arms down and push all my weight down on Bran’s side that is towards the ceiling, trying to keep him as still as possible while Father continues to wipe away the foam continuing to flow out of Bran’s mouth. 

I try to push away all the sound and distraction around me. Just continue to do what I can, pushing away the thoughts of who it is I’m holding down and why, just focus on my task. 

_It’s hard though. This is my brother._

I don’t know how long we continue like that but the next sound I hear is the back doors to the hall being thrown open and Luwin, Arya and Jon coming in all with arms full of vials and jars. 

The three of them quickly make their way towards Bran. 

“YOU FIX MY SON FIRST! HE IS YOUR PRINCE! I AM YOUR QUEEN!” the Queen shouts at Luwin as he kneels next to Bran. 

“NED ORDER YOUR MAESTER TO GET OVER HERE NOW!” the King follows, his voice booming in the hall. 

Father ignores the command and continues to hold Bran while I continue to struggle to keep him still. Luwin kneels down by Bran’s head and brings a small vial to his lips and forces it into his mouth through the foam. 

I hear angry steps approaching behind me and I turn to see the King stomping his way towards us. 

“MY SON IS DYING!” the King shouts even louder as he grabs Luwin by the shoulder but Father steps forward and shoves his longtime friend off the maester.

“SO IS MINE!” Father shouts in return.

I feel Bran almost immediately stop thrashing around underneath me and look up at Father who is looking extremely angrily at the King. 

“Talk to me Luwin,” I say, sliding over to where Father was urgently. 

“No time,” is Luwin's response before turning up to Jon who is standing above him, his arms carrying a few vials himself. “Jon, take the vial in your right hand, yes that one and go give it to the Prince, I will be over soon, keep him breathing.” 

I focus on Bran but the booming voices in the middle of the room. 

“MY SON IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN YOUR SON! HE IS THE PRINCE OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS!” the King bellows again. 

I try to keep my eyes on Bran and keeping his mouth clear of the foam filling it like I saw Father doing but my eyes shoot up as I hear the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting with a face. 

My eyes shoot up and see Father shaking his hand as the King is stumbling back into a pair of Lannister guards. 

No one moves. 

The room is in shock. 

Lucky, Luwin still remains unbothered by the room around him as he prepares two other small vials. 

“Robb,” he says urgently and look down at him. “Help me open his mouth,” 

Without thinking I move my hands to Bran's chin and forcibly open my brothers mouth and Luwin pours the second liquid down his throat. 

“When his mouth stops foaming, give him this,” he says, extending the second vial he had been preparing. 

I nod automatically and he stands quickly and moves across the room to the Prince. 

“It’s almost over Bran,” I whisper as Mother moves in to where Luwin was. 

I look up and see Father approaching again, his right hand, not looking great but otherwise looking okay though he does still have tears running down his face. 

I continue to wipe away the decreasing amount of foam from Bran’s mouth. 

_I have to stay focused._

I focus on Bran’s mouth until it stops foaming completely and I quickly pour the third and hopefully final liquid down his throat. 

Bran lets out a short but full breath and I feel a little bit of relief fill me. He is no longer thrashing around on the ground and his mouth is not foaming anymore.

_He’s breathing. He’s okay._

He appears to be resting comfortably now but I don’t have any actual idea. Mother quickly grabs Bran back from my arms and rubs her arm across Bran’s face, whispering into her unconscious son’s ear. And I stand needing a little air to breath and by now a lot of people have gathered around Bran’s body. 

I look over at the other camp and the relieved posture of all of them coupled with the Queen’s happy sobs tell me the Prince is in a similar state to Bran. 

Luwin stands from the center of the group and makes his way out the circle and over to the side of the room. I watch him and he takes a deep breath in relief as he steadies himself on the wall.

I walk over to him and he smiles at me as I approach. 

I don’t really know what to say so I just hug the old man and I hear him let out a chuckle at the expression of gratitude. 

I back up and he has a small smile on his face.

“Thank you,” I say because my brain can’t think of anything else to say and he nods before letting out another breath and his eyes become focused again. 

“We are not done yet,” he says and I feel curiosity and panic fill me again. 

“Are they okay?” 

“If it is what I think it is, they have survived the worst part, but most likely they will both be running a fever for a few days, amongst other things,” he says clearly leaving something out. 

I take comfort in the fact that he says they have gotten through the worst of it but am worried that Bran is not out of danger. 

“What’s next?” I ask.

“We need to get them situated in their rooms, the more comfortable they are, the better,” he says making his way over to the Royal Family and follow behind him. 

_The man just saved Bran’s and the Prince’s lives, but he still is probably not a favorite of the Queen or King right now, so the least I can do is back him up._

We approach the Lannister huddle and the Queen is still holding her unconscious son to her chest with the Kingslayer and the King next to her standing over the boy. 

“Your Graces,” Luwin says with caution and both look up at him. The Queen has a fiery look in her eye, like if we came any closer, she would attack us but the King looked at us relieved and a little sheepish. “We need to get the Prince to his room and situated so I can get a full scope on how he is doing.” 

The Queen looks like he is going to say something, and not nice if the look in her eye is anything to go on, but her brother puts a hand on her shoulder and she looks up at him. They look eyes for a second and she relaxes slightly. 

Very slightly. 

Then nods and the Kingslayer picks up the boy from his Mother’s arms.

Luwin turns and starts walking towards the Stark circle, and I follow him. 

“Lord Stark,” he calls and Father looks up at him. “We need to get Lord Bran to my study.” 

The master is a lot more straightforward with Father but they have a much longer relationship, so it makes sense. 

I let out a breath as everybody begins to file out and sit down in a chair at a random table. 

_This was supposed to be a simple happy farewell feast for everyone going to Kings Landing._

Jon comes up and sits next to me not saying anything, just letting me know he’s there, which I appreciate. 

_This trip just does not know how to go smoothly does it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know! 
> 
> More bad news, I have a family birthday this coming weekend and will not be able to post a chapter, but we are back the week after! 
> 
> Sorry!


	25. The Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both sides try to come to grips with what has just happened and truths come out as they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope you all are staying safe and sane. 
> 
> Luckily another chapter is here!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy and make sure to let me know how I did!

**C25 - Ned POV**

My brain feels like it is numb.

I am still in shock and I know I have not fully processed what has happened. 

I know anger or sadness or both are not going to be far behind.

I have seen a lot of things in my life. 

I remember the anguish that crashed over me when we received news of my Father and Brother being killed by the Mad King. 

Or the confusion and hurt when I discovered Lyanna missing. 

The acceptance that I had taken another man's life.

Or the site of one of my men taking an arrow to the neck directly in front of my eyes in battle. 

But all of that combined does not touch the dread and fear I felt grip me at seeing Bran so close to losing his life. 

My son! 

To see the sickening amount of foam pouring out his young innocent lips while I was helpless to do anything.

I curl my unconscious son closer into my chest. Jory had, and a lot of other people, offered to carry Bran to Luwin’s study but I refused. 

I was trying to keep a strong facade on but on the inside the slight lift and retreat of Bran’s chest was the only thing keeping me sane. I look down at my son in my arms and he is still extremely pale. 

_He will pull through this, he has too._

We are approaching Luwin’s study. Cat is walking next to me supporting Bran’s head. She doesn’t really need to be doing it at all but I’m sure the contact is keeping her grounded like it is me. 

I also know there is a group of people behind us, but I could not tell you who they are. I assume Robb is back there because he helped me with Bran but other than that I hadn’t cared to look. 

All of my attention had been on only Bran.

And Robert when he had the stupidity to suggest that Bran’s life was less important than Tommen’s. I had tried not to punch him but he is just lucky I didn’t kill him for suggesting something that.

_It was also his son in danger._

The reminder from my brain is able to diminish my anger towards Robert a little bit but it is definitely still there. 

As we approach Luwin’s study, there are a large number of people crowding the hallways between soldiers, guards, lords and ladies all trying to see what is going on.

They all part to make room for me and every one of them holding sympathy or anger in their eyes as I walk past. 

I don’t bother knocking and walk into the room that I have been visiting too often for something like this recently. 

_Too often._

As I enter, I see five other people already in the room. The Kingslayer is sitting in a chair near the bed. Robert is standing menacingly and the Queen sitting as close to the bed as you can get with tears still running down her tears. All of them surrounding the bed that Prince Tommen is resting in. 

The young prince is under the blanket but I can see he is as pale as Bran is and his hand is being held by the Queen.

Also surrounding the bed is Maester Luwin who is conducting his examination of the young prince. 

I feel a hand on my arm and I jump a little to see Catelyn looking up at me with understanding and fear, tears also still leaking out of her eyes. 

I nod and look around the room and see the table that had been on the side of the room had been semi-converted to a bed and I assume that is where I should put him. 

I walk up and gently lay Bran’s head on the pillow that had been set up. As soon as he is down Cat reaches up and strokes another hair from his head before grabbing his hand in a similar manner as the Queen. 

I lay a hand on his upper arm and just stare at him. I think about the first time I held his little body in my arms. He was barely as big as my arm but he fit so perfectly in my arms. I think about the first time I saw Cat admonish him for climbing _way_ too high and the laugh it brought me and Robb and the time. I think about the huge smile on his face when he would attempt to train Sumer in the courtyard and then the anger that filled it when Summer ultimately did not listen. 

_Why did this happen to you?_

That is the big question isn’t it. Why would anyone want to poison two young, innocent helpless little boys? What have they done to hurt anyone? 

_Whoever it is, just put a time limit on their time here._

I don’t know how long I stared at my son but I hear a faint voice behind me and I look to see Luwin looking at me with sympathy. 

“Lord Stark,” he said again but my ears were listening this time. “ If you could allow me access to examine Lord Bran.” 

I don’t want to, but I look across from me and see Catelyn looking at Bran still with tears running down her face and I know she won’t step away. And Luwin does need to do his exam, so I reluctantly shake my head and take a step back. From the table and Luwin swiftly moves into position beside Bran, pressing his hand to his face. 

I watch Luwin start to go about poking and prodding at Bran before I move my eyes across the room to where the Prince is. 

He is a nice boy. 

Much nicer than his older brother. 

To be fair it is a very short list of people that are worse than the heir to the Iron throne.

_We better hope Robert lives for a long time._

But the younger son is genuinely nice and courteous. I know him, Bran and Princess Myrcella had become very close during their time here and all three had been looking forward to traveling back south. 

I look back up at Luwin who is still working his way around Bran. Bran had not stirred at all since settling from whatever Luwin had given to him and based on what I have seen from the Prince he has been the same way. 

I watch Luwin finish up his examination then he let out a deep breath. He moved over to his bench and began to work on something. I see him complete whatever it is he is working on before turning around with two vials in his hands. He automatically moves towards the Prince, gently pouring the liquid down his throat while the Queen looks upon him with eyes of massive distrust. 

Luwin either doesn't see it or does not let it bother him as he retreats once the vial is empty and moves towards Bran. He repeats the process gently pouring some clear liquid down my son’s throat. 

_God how did we get here?_

My brain asks the same question again, still trying to somehow live in denial that my son is having to go through that. 

“Your Graces, My Lords, if you would like I shall explain what has happened now,” Luwin says in his usual soft voice from the where he moved to the center of the room. We all turn towards him but both Cat and the Queen remain glued to their sons' sides. 

“Who poisoned my son?” Robert demands first. 

“I am sorry, Your Grace, I cannot speak as to who or why, just what” Luwin says and Robert huffs in disapproval. 

The room stands in silence for a few seconds.

“Continue,” I say breaking the silence. 

“Prince Tommen and Lord Bran were both poisoned with a poison named Allure. It is not common but is not difficult to make if you have all the correct ingredients. It most likely was ingested by both of them in something they drank or ate, it would give the food or drink a weird taste but even if they noticed it would not make a difference as it is extremely fast acting. Soon after they would start to feel woozy and drowsy. The rest of what happens you all were there for.” 

Luwin pauses for a second before continuing. 

“Once the poison is inside the ingestors system, even with the antidote, there is still no guarantee that the foam would not clog their airways. Luckily, you all were able to keep them clear long enough for the antidote to take effect.”

“How did you know what poison it was?” the Kingslayer asked. 

“The symptoms, my lord,” he says simply clearly not wanting to go into details. Whether for his sake or ours I am not sure. 

“So they are safe now,” Robert asks. 

“They will be unconscious for a week or so and will also have a fever during that time, which presents its own risk. Also there is a still possibility that the muscle spasms incurred during the seizure will have long term effects. But even with all that they are through the worst of it,” Luwin says and I feel a small amount of relief.

Small. 

“I would still like to keep them under close watch for until they wake up, I can have a second bed brought in here as to make sure both of them are comfor--,” Luwin says but gets interrupted. 

“No,” the Queen says. “He is the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and he will stay in his room near his family.” 

She says it with fury and finality.

“Your Grace, it will be much easier--,” Luwin says but gets cut off again. 

“I do not care about what is easy for you, I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and my son will stay with me in the Royal Wing of the castle.” 

I look up and see Robert still looking at Luwin, undeterred by his wife’s statement. 

Luwin looks over at me briefly before nodding his head. 

“Very well, Your Grace, if you wish for his treatment and recovery to be in the Royal Wing, I will make the necessary adjustments.”

The Queen goes back to looking at the young prince and silence falls over the room again. 

“When is the best time for the Prince to be moved,” the Kingslayer asked genuinely. 

“As long as he remains resting, he can be moved anytime and is not crashed into anything, but it is very important that neither of them wake until their bodies are ready to do so.” 

The Kingslayer nods and starts moving towards the bed putting a hand on his sister’s shoulder. 

“Thank you Maester,” I say to Luwin. “For saving my son’s life.” 

He gives me a small smile in return.

“You are most welcome, My Lord,” he says before moving away from the small circle

From there, it is a little more chaotic as the Lannister twins move the prince out of the bed, the Kingslayer gently cradling his nephew's body as Robert stands off to the side.

Robert calls a few guards in and orders them to make the Prince’s room ready to receive him. 

As they are leaving the room Robert lags behind slightly and we lock eyes with each other. I still feel a deep anger rise up and I am sure he can tell based on the slight look of shame on his face. 

He doesn’t need to say anything. 

We both know we need to have a conversation but both us definitely do not want to have it right now. So I nod in return and he stoically makes his way out of the room.

Now it is just me, Cat and Luwin and Luwin starts speaking again. 

“My Lord, My Lady, there is something else we need to discuss before moving Lord Bran and letting the rest of your family in. 

“And that is?” I ask and let out a sigh gaining the attention of Catelyn. 

“During the examination of Lord Bran I did notice a large bump and a small amount of blood on the back of Lord Bran’s head,” he says and if he didn’t have our attention before he definitely had it now. “It is very possible it is nothing, but with head injuries it is impossible to tell, we will have to wait until he wakes up to fully assess the damage.” 

I let out a heavy sigh and whatever relief over his condition that had left my body is now back. 

_Why is this happening to Bran?_

* * *

**C25 - Jaime POV**

My mind feels like just a massive jumble of thoughts. 

My son was poisoned and no one has any idea of why or how or who it was. 

_Why would someone want to hurt him? He is just a young innocent boy._

The thought alone makes my chest constrict. 

I pull him tighter into my chest as we near his room, not wanting for him to slip away again. 

The whole situation had been a giant mess, I had been looking frantically over at the young Stark boy when I heard Cersei. 

“Tommen,” she had said worriedly with so much fear and panic in her voice it froze me. Her voice will haunt me till the day I die, I’m sure of it. 

When she said it, I wheeled around to see Tommen stumbling forward towards her reaching out for her before he began to fall and luckily I was able to catch him before he hit his head on anything from the fall. 

Cersei collapsed next to the body, tears already streaming down her face. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she whispered in his ear over and over again. 

I held my son as closely as I could as he began to shake and spasm and I felt helpless to stop it. All my life I spent making myself the best swordsman in the world. Definitely because it was expected of me and I enjoyed the fame and accolades it came with, but also so I could protect my family. 

Now all of that hard work and long hours seemed to amount to nothing because I could not even help save my own son. 

We are just lucky that the Maester knew what to do. When he came over it took all of my mental focus to tune into what he was saying. But once he said it, the soldier in me, came out and I tried to just focus on getting my job done. 

That was how I had to look at it, because if I thought about the fact that I was having to clear foam from my son’s mouth otherwise he would die, I would have lost it. 

I did have to shove Cersei out of the way at one point, which was not my proudest moment, but she was getting in the way so I did what I had to do. 

The guards open the door as we approach the room and I adjust to make sure I do not hit Tommen’s head on the door. 

I move towards the bed that had been prepped for Tommen’s arrival and place him in it and tuck the blankets around him. 

Cersei is quickly in the chair by his bed and has his hand in her s again looking at our son with care, worry and...is that guilt?

No, that doesn’t make sense. 

My brain doesn’t have time to consider that line of thought as I feel the oaf approach behind me and I take a step back. 

I have very little respect for the King, if any at all, but I did appreciate the ferocity with which he fought Lord Stark to get that maester to see Tommen. He did not go about it in a great way, and the small bruise on his face was evidence of that but I honestly did not think he would have done anything but stand there.

He loves fiercely that is for sure.

The only reason we are here right now is because the woman he loved was kidnapped. 

It might be different if he knew Tommen wasn’t actually his son, but that is not a thought for right now. 

I hear the big door behind us open quietly and I see a very afraid and teary-eyed looking Myrcella peeking her head in through the door. 

She looks into the room, clearly not sure if she can come in. When her eyes land on me I give her a small smile and gesture for her to come in. She walks in, each step she takes it looks like she thinks she might fall right through the floor. 

Neither of her two “parents” seem to notice her presence so she comes and stands beside me and wrap an arm around her shoulders. I look down at her as she looks up at me it is obvious that she has been crying for a while and another part of me breaks. 

_It is never easy to see your child cry._

I reach down and wipe the dried tears from her face. She gives me a sad smile before looking back down at her brother. And we stay like that for a long time. 

Cersei sitting grasping Tommen’s hand like it is the only thing keeping her sane, saying something under her breath that I cannot quite make out. The King simply standing looking down at the boy in the bed. And me, with an arm around Myrcella standing at the top of the bed. 

A part of me wants Joffrey to be here as well but the much bigger part of me knows exactly why he isn’t here.

I look down at Myrcella and see she has her eyes closed. I nudge her and she looks up at me. 

“Tired?” I whisper to her quietly and she nods.

No other words are needed as I begin to lead her from the room. It is kind of awkward to walk like that so I reach down and grab her hand. I know she knows how to get to her room, and I know she knows that. I mean it is two doors down but after what just happened, I am not letting her out of my sight until she is safe and secure in her room. 

And even after that I will worry about her. 

We quickly reach the room and there are no guards in front of it. 

I crouch down so I am even level with her. 

“I will get some guards to stand outside your room okay? Try to sleep,” I say and she nods before giving me a hug. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” she says, the dread and sadness evident in her voice.

“What doesn’t make sense sweetheart?” I ask. 

“Why Tommen and Bran?” she asks, hugging me tighter and I let out a big eternal sigh. 

“I don’t know, but we will figure it out,” I say to her and she stands back a little bit and looks at me, fresh tears in her eyes. 

“If Tommen had listened, do you think this wouldn’t have happened?” she asks and it takes me by surprise. 

“Listen to who?” I ask gently. 

“Mother, she sent someone to retrieve us but Tommen ignored it, should I have made him come with me, is it my fault?” she says new tears springing from her eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” I say to her, bringing her attention up from the ground and looking into my eyes. “I need you to hear me and believe me when I say this, none of this was your fault. Do you hear me? None of it.”

It takes a second before she gives me a teary nod and I bring her into another tight hug. 

I feel a brilliant warmth spread through me as I hug my daughter close. We stay like that for a few seconds before she lets go and opens the door to her room. I walk in behind her as she slowly climbs into bed. 

I bring the blankets around her and tuck them in snugly around her before leaning down and kissing her forehead. 

“Try and sleep, if you need anything, you know where to find me okay?” I ask and she gives me a tired nod. I stand and make my way out the room but not before looking fondly at her, eyes closed looking very peaceful, before I shut the door behind me.

I quickly walk to the edge of the Royal Wing and order two of the five guards there doing nothing to stand sentry at her door with orders to not move until ordered before I make my way back to Tommen’s room. 

The King is gone and it is just Cersei clinging Tommen’s hand. I try to be quiet so as to not startle her but as I approach, I continue to hear her say something under her breath but I still can’t make it out. 

I am not sure she even realizes I am there as I stand on the opposite side of the bed as her. 

I lean closer to try and hear what she is saying until I can just barely make it out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” she is saying over and over again. 

_What does she have to be sorry for?_

Is she sorry that he is having to go through this? 

That doesn’t seem right. 

“What are you sorry for?” I ask unable to keep the question inside my head. 

She jumps a little and looks over at me confirming the fact that she had no idea I had returned. Though it might be possible she forgot I was there the first time at all. 

She looks at me and I see her eyes shift to Tommen quickly out of instinct or indication I don't know, yet. 

“Why are you talking right now?” she asks and I roll my eyes. 

“You were saying I’m sorry over and over under your breath, why?” I ask forcefully. 

She gets a guilty look on her face again like she had not realized she had been saying it out loud and the sickening feeling in my stomach worsens.

I can tell she wants to lie or deflect, I can see it forming in her throat but it seems she can’t before she bursts out in tears, grabbing Tommen’s hand again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she begins to say over and over again and I am more confused than before.

_“Mother, she sent someone to retrieve us but Tommen ignored.”_

Myrcella’s voice rings in my head from a few minutes ago and I can feel a thought growing in my brain that I do not want to even consider. 

But as I look at Cersei, eyes raining tears, inconsolable, and frantically begging an unconscious boy to forgive her, the thought blossoms in my brain like it was a flower watered by her tears. 

“It was you,” I say quietly but she seems to hear me all the same. 

I want her to deny it. To yell at me for even suggesting such a thing. 

But she doesn’t. She just looks over at me, her eyes carrying guilt and despair in them and I know I’m right. 

“WH-” I cut myself off from yelling and alerting the whole castle. “You poisoned our son!” 

It comes out quiet but it still carries the full force of my anger. 

“It was an accident,'' she says with a broken tone. 

“Why was it a possibility at all?” I ask harshly again and she looks down at Tommen. 

“He didn’t listen, I asked to see him but he said no. He should have listened,” she says, small amounts of anger dripping into her voice.

“No! You will not at all, blame him for this!” I say pointing to Tommen and she bows her head again. 

“It is these beasts in the North! They prance about up here and try to pass judgement onto us! They corrupted Tommen and Myrcella!”

I take a deep breath and try to rein in my anger but it is not working. 

_The mother of my children poisoned her own son, who the fuck is the person across from me?_

“Why?” I demand again. 

She wipes her tears away before looking back up at me.   
“He saw us,” she says quietly and at first, I am confused all over again but then it clicks. 

“You can’t be serious,” I say. 

“He could have ruined us!” she says, finding her anger again. 

“If he hadn’t said anything by now, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t going to!” I say back. 

“You don’t know that!” she screams back and I gesture for her to keep it down. No matter how angry we are, we cannot let this get out.

“You poisoned him to get rid of him? Inside the Starks own castle?” I ask incredulously. 

“I was protecting us, our family but Tommen didn’t listen! He would have been safe if he had just listened to me!” 

Her voice breaks but it makes me angrier. 

“Shocking, a 10-year-old boy didn’t listen to his mother when he was hanging out with one of his friends!” I say and she scoffs at me. 

_She poisoned my son!_

That point I do not think has fully taken hold in my brain. 

I thought my brain was a jumbled mess before, now it feels like a ship pulled apart by a massive storm.

_I need to leave._

I can’t stay in this room any longer. 

Without even saying anything further I stumble out of the room knocking loudly into the door frame as I attempt to do so. I do not know where I am walking to, but I know I cannot go to my room right now, the confined space will drive me crazy. 

I just walk down the corridor with no destination in mind. Hopefully, I will run into Tyrion at some point. I need to talk to someone and he is literally the only option for something like this. But until then, hopefully I do not freeze to death in the cold Northern winds. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Next week we visit with Luwin for the first time!


	26. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luwin tends to the two boys in his care while juggling both sets of parents, and Ned makes his final decision of whether to accompany Robert back South.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I saw all of your comments, I am sorry I have not responded to them yet! 
> 
> I hope all of you are doing well and are not as insanely busy as I am! 
> 
> I also hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Let me know how I do.

##  C26 - Luwin POV 

I rub my head trying to wake myself up while I walk down the corridor towards the Royal Wing of the castle. A path I have become extremely familiar with over the last ten days. 

“Huhh,” I let out a sigh and pray for my brain to wake up a little bit more. 

Ever since that fateful night ten days ago it has been non stop moving for me. I have gotten a few hours of sleep each night but not nearly enough. This would be much easier if the two boys rooms were close to each other instead of a five minute walk apart. 

Though I can understand The Queen’s want for separation between these families. The relationship between the Starks and Lannisters was not on solid ground before this trip, now I feel like it is balancing on a cliff’s edge and one more wrong move will send everyone over the edge with only war waiting at the bottom. 

I will do anything I can to avoid another war, but something is telling me there is going to be nothing I can do about it. 

I am approaching the entrance to the Royal Wing and the Lannister guards standing sentry don’t even ask my business anymore. They stopped after about the 20th time I came walking through here always giving the same answer. 

As I approach the room my thoughts immediately shift to the young lion inside the room. He has been showing increasing signs of waking up, which is good, though he is still running a little bit of a fever. 

That is not a huge concern, but something I am closely monitoring. 

I enter the room and the Queen is still sitting vigil by her son’s beside, I watch as she once again uses a rag to wipe the sweat from her son’s head. 

Neither one of the mother’s had left their son since it happened. 

Also in the room is the King, which has grown to surprise me less and less. 

I honestly did not know how the King was going to handle this, and how present he was going to be in his son’s bedroom but I had been very impressed to see him in the room almost every time I had come to check on the boy. 

And if rumors about the Royal marriage are to be believed, this has to be the most time they have spent together in a long time. 

“Your Graces,” I say politely, keeping my head down respectfully. “Has he awoken yet?” 

I ask the question as I move towards the boy’s bedside. 

“No!” the Queen snarls at me, which is not unusual at this point, that is all she seems to do. “He still has not woken up, you said he would wake soon, and it has been ten days!”

I let out an internal sigh as I know I cannot do it outloud. I reach down and feel the boy’s forehead before responding to the question. 

_ Still a little warm.  _

“Your Grace, I do expect him to awake soon,” I say and as I say that the young boy groans again in between us before settling again. “He is showing more and more signs of regaining consciousness, but these things do not have exact times, he will wake when he is ready, and not sooner.” 

She lets out a huff as I reach down and feel his forehead again, trying to judge if his fever had gone down at all. I then move down and feel along his arms. His muscles had been very strained during the seizure and he will no doubt still be sore when he wakes up, even though it has been ten days. 

“And how long after he wakes can we leave this dreadful and cold place?” the Queen asks me as I stand up from my assessment. 

“Your Grace it is not his consciousness that is the biggest concern to me at this point, he is still running a bit of a fever, once that is done and I feel he is safe to travel you will have my permission to leave, to do so before that point would be putting your son’s life at risk,” I say and she justs stands their for a second appraising me again. 

“And what are you doing about that?” she asks...again. 

“As I have said, thrice a day he will be administered medicine to help quell the fever,” I say to her again. 

“And why only three times a day?” she asks. 

This is the fourth time we have had this discussion, I don’t know if she expects the answers to change each time or if she doesn’t remember, but either way it is my job to answer all of their questions.

“That is the maximum safe amount I can give him, any more and the medicine will begin to have a negative effect.” 

She once again seems satisfied with the answers and turns back to her son. 

_ Not long until I need to get his next round of medicine ready.  _

“Your Graces, call on me immediately if there is any change,” I say to no response from either of them in the room, the King staying incredibly silent the entire time. 

I exit the room and start to make my way back towards my other patient Bran. As I start back on the route to where he is resting, I come along the balustrade that looks down on the courtyard below and am unsurprised to see no one out there, despite it still being bright outside. 

Everyone in the Castle has been on a sort of stand still since everything happened, no one is really doing anything except for the very few basic essential tasks. Everyone is staying in their rooms, attending to the boys or quietly doing their own activities.

It is a weird time because over half of the current occupants of the castle were supposed to leave days ago, so they are all ready to go but no one knows if that is going to be in a few days or a few weeks. 

If the Queen is any indication, the shorter the better for their time here. And my guess is the Queen is dead set on leaving at the earliest possible time they will be leaving in three to four days.

I am very confident that the prince will wake either tonight or early tomorrow and his fever will break soon after. If it was all my call, he would not make a long rocky bumby trek while sore and fatigued and would rest comfortably here for a few weeks. 

But unfortunately it is not my decision. . 

As I turn another corner I see the Kingslayer approaching me. 

That has been one thing that has very much surprised me over the past couple of days was the Kingslayer’s very noticeable absence from the Prince’s room. The first night, he was quite visible in his care and attention for his nephew. 

But of all the times I have gone to the prince’s room he has only been there a few times, both times the Princess Myrcella was also in attendance with him. 

That is not to say that he has been uninterested in the Prince’s progress as he usually found me every few hours, just like now, to ask on the Prince's progress. 

I can’t help the question from popping into my brain of why he feels like he must come to me instead of just going to the room while I am there or asking his sister, but it is not my place to ask why, just serve in the best ways I can. 

“Maester,” he says respectfully in greeting. 

“Ser Jaime, the Prince is showing more and more signs of waking up, though he still does have a slight fever, I am confident that he remains to be on the mend and will make a full recovery,” I say automatically, not needing his question any more. 

“Thank you Maester,” he says and departs down the hall. 

“Of course, my lord.” 

As he disappears down the hallway, I continue my trek to Bran’s room and my thoughts start to turn to the young Stark. 

_ I am very worried about him _

Unlike the Prince who is showing many signs of progressing and signs he is going to be waking up soon, Lord Bran is the exact opposite. 

He has not moved, groaned, or given any indication he is going to wake up soon and I am starting to get worried he never will. Hsi fever broke the day after he got poisoned and has not returned, by all intents and purposes, he is doing better than the Prince but still is not showing any signs of waking. 

If it was not for the constant sound of his breathing reminding everyone that he is actually still alive, I would be concerned he had taken a turn for the worst.. 

I suspect it has something to do with his head injury, that is the one big difference between the two boys. Prince Tommen was caught before he hit the ground, Lord Bran on the other hand hit the big metal hearth very hard if the small degree of blood and the very large bump on his head are any indication. 

I arrive at Bran's door and enter, not surprised to see Lady Catelyn still sitting at her son’s bedside. Her eyes meet mine for an instant before she looks back down at her hands where she appears to be creating some sort of design. 

I go about my examination and he still has no fever and his muscles are very relaxed in comparison to Prince Tommen’s. 

As I am about to finish Lord Stark enters the room and I nod at him before finishing. 

“Any progress?” he asks me solemnly. 

“I am afraid not My Lord. He still seems to be resting comfortably,” I say with sadness in my voice. 

“Do you have any idea as to when he will wake?” Lord Stark asks. 

I look over at him and I am sure he can see the answer in my eyes but I say it anyway. 

“I am afraid not My Lord. Prince Tommen is showing more and more signs of waking as time goes along but Bran is showing none of those same signs, so there is no telling.” 

He nods sadly, looking at his son, then over to his wife, then back up at me. 

“How is the Prince progressing?” 

“I expect him to wake if not today then early tomorrow. The Queen indicated that at the earliest possible safe time, they intend to start their journey back South,” I say and he nods his head at me. 

“And when do you expect that to be?” he asks looking down at Bran. 

“If the Prince’s fever breaks the way I expect it to, three to four days is the earliest, though I do believe the Prince should rest longer,” I say and he nods again. 

He falls silent again so a question that I have been meaning to ask pops back into my tired mind. 

“My Lord may I ask if you still intend to travel back down South with the Royal Family?” I say to him. 

This gets the attention of Lady Catelyn whose head perks up and she glances over at us, though based on how intent Lord Stark is staring at his son, I doubt he noticed. 

“I do not know Luwin, I need to talk to Robert,” he says and I nod but Lady Catelyn stands from her chair. 

“You can’t be serious Ned!” she says angrily as I take a step back to give the two of them room. “Your son was poisoned, we need you here!” 

Lord Stark lets out a groan and looks over at me before returning his eyes to Lady Catelyn. 

“We are not going to do this now,” he says with finality before he turns to me. “Maester thank you for everything you are doing, now I suggest you get some rest. Please do not take offence to this but you look like you could use it.” 

I chuckle at the statement and nod my head. 

“I will try My Lord,” I say and he nods before leaving the room. 

Lady Catelyn’s eyes have refocused on Bran so I quietly make my way out of my room and towards my chambers. 

I have a few hours until I need to get back to the Prince’s chambers and sleep sounds really good right now, I will just need to make sure someone wakes me up as I’m sure I could sleep through a battlefield right now.

##  C26 - Ned POV 

I take a deep breath and refocus on what seems like a never ending pile of paperwork in front of me. This is the first time since Bran has been poisoned that I am even looking at this stuff. 

I may have stopped looking at it, but that does not mean that it stopped coming. 

The world stops for nothing and no one despite what everyone else wants. 

I try to focus on the endless numbers detailing just how much this Royal Visit has cost us, but the numbers just seems to not register in my brain. They just keep circling and circling. 

But no matter what I do I cannot help my thoughts returning to my son. 

My poor innocent son. 

It still seems so abstract and outlandish that anyone would ever want to poison him. 

_ And Prince Tommen.  _

They are two innocent boys who have known nothing but lessons, swords, fun, and arrows their entire life. What could they have possibly done to deserve this?

That is the thought that has been rattling around my brain non stop since I settled at my son’s bedside, what is it, 10 nights ago? 9? I’m not sure to be honest. 

It all just feels like one long nightmare that I do not know how to wake up from.

But despite all my brain power being dedicated to such a simple question, I am just as clueless as I was when I was clinging to my shaking and groaning son in my arms. 

I try to wipe the thought from my brain but it seems determined to stay. 

I take another deep breath and look back at the page in front of me, hoping I can get lost in the numbers.

“I’m surprised we have any left at all,” I muse to myself as I look at the line detailing wine expenses. 

Between Robert and Tyrion Lannister, I’m sure they have consumed as much as the rest of the occupants of this castle combined. 

_ Robert.  _

I lean back in my seat and rub my eyes, sleep has never been easy for me. 

I do not know what has happened to my once childhood friend but I can barely recognize him anymore. Both in his stature and his attitude. 

It barely takes eyesight to realize how much weight he has added on, how he has added that much is a mystery for the ages. But it was more than that.

When he was younger, even in his rage, he could always hold some semblance of rational thought or strategy. But now? 

Now he had asked me to abandon my own son when his life was at risk, that is something I am not sure I can forgive him for. I look down at my right hand. It was only sore for a day or so from when I had punched my King square across the jaw. 

_ I feel like everyone might have been better off if I just refused to greet the Royal Family in the first place. It would have been a slight but would not lead to war. _

With everything that has happened here, from Sansa and Joffrey to the boys, war feels almost inevitable at this point. 

I do not know if I should still travel south. I told Robert all those years ago I would stand by his side, always, whenever called. And I have kept my word all this time, from the Rebellion to the Greyjoys and now. 

He asked me to be Hand of the King and I was honor bound to accept so I did. Robb is ready to step into Lord of Winterfell anyways. But now, things are different. My family may need me here, but the Seven Kingdoms also may need me. 

Lysa’s letter comes back to the front of my mind. If someone had killed Jon Arryn, Robert could easily be next. And despite his lackluster performance as a King, it is only him who was keeping the Seven Kingdoms from dissolving into chaos.

If Robert dies, I would doubt anyone in the North would even consider it a viable option at all to bend the knee to the Prince after what he did to Sansa.

And I am most definitely one of those people. 

And that leads to war. 

It is all so complicated, and all the layers to it, leave me undecided as to what I should do. 

_ I need to talk to Robert.  _

He is most likely with Prince Tommen. 

That is where he has spent the majority of his time according to Maester Luwin. I cannot help the somewhat jealous twinge inside me when I think of the Prince. 

What he went through was as horrendous as Bran, but at the very least he is showing signs of returning to the land of the living. 

Bran is not.

If not for the small sound of his breath leaving his nose, it would be impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.

And every second he remained motionless, my worry and fear deepened. 

_ What if he never wakes up?  _

No! I can’t think like that. 

A knock at my door interrupts my morose thoughts. 

“Enter,” I call out and I see Jory enter the room, with a very big form behind him. 

“The King, my lord,” he says, stepping to the side to allow Robert to enter behind him. 

_ Saves me a trip.  _

“Thank you Jory,” I say as I stand from my chair. 

“Oh sit down Ned,” Robert says as Jory closes the door behind his retreating form. 

Robert sits in a chair that is directly opposite of me. 

It feels like I should say something, but I have no idea what that is. And he seems to be in the same boat as he just looks at me with a nervous look on his face. 

We sit in a tense silence, both of us knowing we need to have this conversation but not knowing how to start, so I say the only thing that comes to my mind. 

“I was actually about to come and find you,” I say to him, intentionally leaving off his title, hoping we can have this conversation between friends and not between King and Lord. 

There is such a fine line now, but I do still hope my friend is in their. 

He does not respond at first but after a few seconds he speaks. 

“Tommen just woke,” he says simply and the news surprises me but I quickly recover.

“Good,” I say simply with a small smile and he returns it. “How is he feeling?”

“He was only awake for a few minutes, but your Maester is checking him right now,” he says and he almost chringes at the mention of Maester Luwin. 

“I’m glad your son is alright Robert,” I say genuinely and he smiles at me before getting a guilty look on his face. 

“And yours?” he asks. 

I am not sure how to answer, my honest truth and deep concern that he may never wake up, or the simple version. 

“Resting comfortably, though not showing the same signs as waking as Tommen was,” I say choosing the simple route. 

“At least he is breathing,” he says and I feel a small amount of anger fill me at his dismissal of my son. 

_ Is that all you have to say?  _

“Yes there is that,” I say through gritted teeth. 

“Would have been much worse if I had had my way,” he says not looking me in the eyes and the acknowledgement makes some of the anger drift away but not most of it. 

He sees I am not going to say anything, so he continues. 

“I’m sorry Ned, for even thinking that your son should mean less to you than my son does. If I was in my right mind, I would never have said that...but I was so angry and worried I was not in my right mind in the slightest,” he says and his voice sounds genuine and emotional. “I thought I knew what fear and anger was but you really don’t until it is your kid in danger do you?” 

I let out a sigh before responding. 

“No you really don’t,” I say and he nods. 

“You're a true friend Ned, the last one I’ve got in this world and you have done everything that I have ever asked of you and more and I repay that by threatening your son’s life. It is not right.” 

_ I knew my old friend was still in there somewhere.  _

“I know it is ridiculous but I need you to still consider coming South with us. Now that Tommen is awake, Cersei wants to leave as soon as possible and I can’t imagine too many people around here will be too sad about seeing our backs. But when we leave, I need you by my side. There is a war coming Ned, I know you feel it too. And the only way to get through it is the same way we have gotten through everything else, together.” 

I feel myself smile. 

_ I cannot disobey my King. I cannot betray my friend.  _

“I shall consider it an honor Your Grace,” I say with a smile and he returns with a face filled with glee. 

“Thank you Ned. If at anypoint you would like to return North, you may do so with no hard feelings. Your Maester said the soonest we can leave is in four days, is that enough time for you?” 

Everything was all ready to go a few days ago so it shouldn’t be too hard. 

“That should be plenty,” I say to him and he stands with a smile. 

“Thank you, Ned,” he says and he disappears out the door. 

Some people may be unhappy with my decision, Catelyn comes to mind, but I cannot be the reason another one of my friends dies and I have to do everything in my power to avoid another war, though part of me feels like it is inevitable. 

_ Speaking of Catelyn, I should go and tell her.  _

Hopefully I will run into Jory on the way so he can start the arrangements. 

I start my walk back to where Bran is resting in the room across from Luwin's chambers. I am lucky as I quite literally run into Jory on the way and let him know he has three days to get everything ready to go. 

He nods and sets off to get started and I continue my trek to Bran. As I approach the room I slow down and quiet my steps like I do not want to disturb the peace of the room. 

I turn into the room and see Catelyn, vigilant as always sitting at Bran’s side. 

She has barely left this room since Bran was placed in here and I doubt she plans on leaving anytime soon. 

I know she knows I am there but she does not acknowledge my presence. 

“Prince Tommen has woken up,” I lead with. I assume she hears my words but she does not look over at me. 

“Come on Cat, you have to talk to someone at some point,” I say desperate to hear her voice and luckily this time she turns halfway towards me, her posture stiff and full of anger.

“What do you want me to say Ned? My son is sitting on potentially his deathbed, my husband is abandoning his family when they need him most, and you want me to be happy that another woman's son is the one improving?” 

I cannot quite tell if her voice is holding anger, resentment or resignation. 

Or all of them.

“I am not abandoning my family Cat,” I say softly and she snorts.

“But you are still returning South with that fat King right?” she asks and I should be angry at the disparagement of the King but I know now is not the time. 

“Yes,” I say and I know she is not going to be happy. “Some things are bigger than just what I want.” 

“Not when it comes to your family,” she raising her voice slightly. “You know you men tell yourselves these lies about honor and loyalty that you have no choice, but you always do. And you made it.” 

I can hear in her voice she is holding back her tears and I want to do something to make her understand, to make her feel better, but I know nothing short of betraying the Seven Kingdoms can give what she wants. 

“I do not expect you to understand nor forgive me, but I cannot be the reason the Seven Kingdoms dissolve into war and chaos. I cannot be the reason Rober-,” I start but she cuts me off. 

“You don't know if there is anything you can do.” 

“No I don’t, but I have to try.” 

She scoffs and turns her back all the way to me this time. 

“Just leave,” she says to me and I slowly get up from where I had sat across from her and make my way out of the room. Once out I lean up against the wall and wipe the tears that had started forming in my eyes. 

_ Time to talk to Robb.  _

I do not know exactly where he is but I do have a guess, so I head in that direction. 

It takes a few minutes but eventually I cross the entrance into the Godswoods and make my way to the Weirwood tree. 

Sitting silently in front of it is Robb. He is simply looking at his reflection in the water but I doubt he is focusing on it. His eyes are distant and I doubt he heard me approach. 

“Robb,” I call and he looks up at me and a small smile spreads on his face. 

“Any news?” he asks. 

“On Bran, no, no changes,” I say and his distant look turns to sorrow quickly. “Prince Tommen has awoken.” 

“That’s good, he seems like a sweet boy,” he says and I nod in agreement.

“At least one of them is,” I mutter under my breath and he nods in agreement. My brain reminds me that Princess Myrcella is also a very sweet girl as well but I’m sure Robb gets my point.

“Now that the Prince is awake, I assume that means that the Royal family will be leaving soon,” he says and I nod. “What about you? Are you still a part of that group?” 

I take a deep breath. I know he is hoping I am going to stay but it is high time he starts getting some Lord experience of his own while I’m still around. 

“Aye, I am,” I say and he lets out a disappointed sigh. 

“Despite everything?” he asks. 

“Aye. There is something coming and I need to do everything I can to stop it,” I say and he nods in resignation. 

“What if you are needed here?” he asks, staring into the water again.

“I am much more needed in the Capital than here. You are ready to lead Robb, don’t doubt that,”I say and he looks at me confused.

“What makes you so sure I am ready?” 

“The fact that you aren’t sure is what makes me sure,” I say to him with a smile and he gets an even more confused look on his face. 

“Wha-what do you mean?”

I let out a sigh and turn towards him. 

“You’re worried that you won’t do a good job right? That you are not ready?” I ask and he nods. “That means you are going to do everything you can to do right by your people, to do your best to lead them, and that is the foundation of any good lord.” 

I give him a smile and he returns it. 

We turn back to the water and sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, the wind rustling through the leaves around us the only noises. 

Soon I realize I should go and tell Sansa and Arya. 

“Well, I should go and tell your sisters, no doubt Arya will be thrilled,” I say and Robb snorts in laughter. 

“Yeah, I’m sure there is something I should be doing,'' he says but makes no move to stand. 

“You can stay here if you’d like, just make sure you eat something,” I say and he nods. 

I stand and start to make way out of the Godswood and to the girls rooms. 

I don’t necessarily want to leave. I will miss Winterfell, and the Godswood.

But I have no choice.


	27. The Overheard Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Robb goes to check in on Bran, he overhears a conversation he was never meant to hear and the consequences will extend throughout the entire castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I am very curious what you all will think so let me know! 
> 
> And i assure you, there is more Jonerys just around the corner, I promise!

**Robb POV**

I don’t know how long I have been sitting under the Godswood tree but I do know when I sat down the sun was high in the sky and now it is close to finishing it’s descent below the horizon. 

_Father is still going to King’s Landing._

I do not know if I should be surprised or not. A big part of me was hoping with all the ugly business with Bran and the Prince and with him punching the King that he would end up staying here. 

Then everything could just go back to normal. 

But it was not to be. 

He says that I am ready, which means more to me than I can put into words, but I cannot help the nervous pit in my stomach when I think about the fact that I, very suddenly, am the most powerful man in the entire North.

_If I have Mother, and Luwin and Jon, and even Theon with me, I will be fine._

I let out a sigh and look up at the darkening sky above me and I know I should probably go and do something.

_I should go and check on Bran._

I haven’t seen him today. Out of all of my siblings, I have spent the most time in his room, but still not nearly as much time as Mother and Father. 

Mother has barely left the room and Father has left only long enough to deal with some of the extremely essential and time sensitive problems that have come up since...it happened. 

I take a deep breath and then stand from where I have been sitting and stretch out my muscles before beginning the short trek back towards the castle. 

A part of me wishes Bran was in his actual room, it would be a shorter walk for me. But it saves Luwin a few extra minutes of walking time between Bran’s and the Prince’s. And with how much he is going back and forth, we need to make it as easy as we possibly can for him. 

I hope he is getting some sleep, he deserves it. 

I enter the corridor and nod at the guard standing sentry at the entrance to the hallway. He’s close enough to where he can block entrance to the hallway but cannot hear anything in both Luwin’s study and chambers where Bran is currently residing. 

“My lord, Lord Jon just came through as well,” he says with a small amount of trepidation in his voice. 

I nod to him even though I’m not entirely sure why he tells me but I continue down the hallway not giving it much thought. If it is just Mother and Jon in there, I’m sure that it is not the happiest of rooms or encounters but I’m sure they are fine. 

Just as I think that though, the sound of someone talking reaches my ears and I slow my approach. 

“I just wanted to check on my brother,” a voice says. 

I think it is Jon’s but it sounds so weak and timid I barely recognize it. 

I should step into the room and announce my presence but something keeps me locked into my spot just outside the room. If someone were to come down the hallway, they could easily see me but right now I am only concerned with what the voices beyond the doorway are saying and nothing else. 

“He is _not_ your brother. And it is your fault he is laying in that bed!” an angry voice replies. 

_Is that Mother’s voice?_

The voice is full of sadness and disdain.

She would never say something like that...right? 

Not something so vulgar and full of hatred.

But then I think about the day the Royal Family arrived and the deep anger I discovered in her voice. And the look of disdain on her face the day Jon destroyed Joffrey in the courtyard and it becomes much more believable very fast. 

_If that is Mother, is it one I recognize?_

My disturbing thoughts are interrupted as I hear Jon respond. 

“He is my brother,” Jon says and I can hear the desperation in his voice but his statement is followed by a scoff. 

“I...want...you...to leave.” 

The statement is choppy but each word deliberate like she's trying to push every morsel of hatred and anger into every word she spoke. 

I hear a chair slide against the hard floor, which I assume is Jon standing and I start to panic slightly because I’m not sure if I should flee or enter the room but then Mother starts to speak again. 

“Not just the room _bastard_. Leave this castle and never come back. Go to your precious Nights Watch at the edge of the world and rot away. You leave and stop corrupting _my_ children with your bastard ways. And you know what will happen if you don’t.”

The shock has worn off and a deep rage is filling me.

_“You know what will happen if you don’t.”_

She says it with such hatred but at the same time normalcy. 

My rage grows even more, so much that it seems like it is consuming me. I want to punch the wall or do something to release my anger but I stay rooted to my spot needing to hear Jon’s response. 

“With respect My Lady I wish to stay and…” Jon’s weakened voice says and the rage I feel grows deeper. 

“Your Lord is leaving for Kings Landing and I have had to put up with your bastard vile existence for too long. You will pack your things and leave my castle.”

_Her castle?_

“Your castle?” I hear myself say before I can stop myself. I take a step forward into the doorway knowing there is no point in remaining hidden anymore. 

My eyes go flying to Mother and at first, she looks shocked but she quickly seems to bow her head in shame. 

I glance at Jon and he is standing along the right side wall with his head down in not just shame but defeat. 

_“What has she done to you?” I think in shame._

The thought fills me with rage but also a deep sense of guilt. How could she be acting like this towards my brother for I don’t even know how long and I had absolutely no idea.

My eyes dart back left and Mother’s face has recovered into a pleasant facade though I can definitely still see the fear in her eyes. 

“Robb, honey, I’m not sure how much you over heard but—,” she is saying the words warm and timidly but my ears remind of the deep and vile way she said her degrading words to my brother and any warmth in her voice falls away.

I see Jon out of the corner of my eye start to head towards the door and that snaps any remnants of my calm facade to pieces. 

“No!” I snap at Jon and he freezes in his tracks. “You stay right fucking there.”

Jon stops and takes a step back sheepishly and I round on my mom. 

“I cannot believe you! How could YOU!” I yell the last word and she deflates a little before regaining her stoic posture. 

“Robb, I do not know what you thin--” she starts again but I am not having it. 

Everything that leaves her mouth right now is a lie as far as I’m concerned. If she can hide this from me, I cannot trust her. 

At all. 

“No! I don’t want to hear it! Nothing you say means anything to me! Jon is as much Bran’s brother as any of us! Jon has loved and cared for him all of Bran’s life and that is even with you apparently berating and abusing him with every fucking chance you get!” 

“Robb you do not know what you’re talking about,” she says forcefully but I am undeterred. 

“No I don’t! But I will! I am going to learn every single thing you have ever done to him and when we are done you are going to be lucky if I even want to speak to you!” 

I see her fully deflate back into her seat this time and it is a small victory but my temper is still running wild. 

“Robb please,” she begs but her words are lost on me. 

“And since you are so concerned with Jon’s living arrangements let’s get one thing perfectly fucking clear. Jon will still in _my_ castle for as long as he fucking wants! And if you can’t handle being around him anymore than _you_ are more than welcome to just leave yourself,” I say and she looks down at her lap. 

I don’t want to be around her anymore so I turn and see Jon still standing along the wall. His eyes are looking at me with admiration, fear, and shock. 

“Jon let’s go, we have some things we need to discuss!” I say and begin a very fast and angered walk out of the room, allowing all the anger I can’t release, find its way into my steps. I hear Jon walking behind me keeping pace despite my frantic steps. I do not really know where I am headed but apparently my body does as we soon arrive at an old empty storage closet. The same one I talked with Jon in the day the Royal Family arrived. 

I throw the door open and we both walk in before I slam it behind us. 

“Start talking!” I say as soon as the door closes but he just looks down and does not say anything. 

I let out a huff of a sigh. 

“Jon you are not getting out of this! Stop trying to protect me and tell me what the fuck I want to know!” I say and I see him look up at me. 

“I’m sorry,” he says sadly. 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jon. This is not your fault. Why did you never tell me what she was doing to you?” I ask, my voice no longer as loud and demanding but more curious .

“I don’t know,” he says, which is a lie. 

“Don’t lie to me, you never do anything without reason so why did you not tell me what my Mother was doing to you!” I demand again. 

“Because she is your Mother,” Jon says and I am more confused than before. 

“That does not excuse her for…” I start but Jon cuts me off. 

“No, no that’s not…” he lets out a sigh before continuing. “I never had a mother.”

He looks to the side longingly before looking up at me with tears in his eyes.

“You are my brother, you have never made me feel like an outsider and I love you for that, but it still is not the same. Lady Stark may not have liked me but I saw how she was with all of you. She is a great mother to all of you and I could not bring myself to do anything to take away from you what I never had. You all deserve to have that and I was not going to be the reason you didn’t.”

I feel my anger give way to sadness as I listen to him and watch him wipe a tear from his because I never even considered what that must have been like. 

_How self-centered am I?_

I let out a sigh and looked at Jon. 

“And as far as bastards go, I could not ask for anything more. I got a home, a family. Hurtful words seemed like a fair price to pay,” he says and it brings my mind back to what I was mad about. 

“So is that all she did, yell at you and hurtful words?” I ask, a part of me hoping that is all he had to go through but knowing that it is not. I see his eyes dart up and back down and I know the answer to my question is no. 

“What did she do?” 

It is more of a demand then a question but he looks up at me with resignation in his eyes. 

“She...for the most part she did not allow me to eat,” he says quietly and I feel my anger rise in me again. 

“She didn’t allow you to eat?” I say incredulously and he nods. “How…”

“She would make my supper meals inedible or only edible enough that I would regret eating it and I knew the next day to just not go to breakfast,” Jon said and that raised an interesting question. 

“What happened if you did go to breakfast?” I asked. 

“I just didn’t, I did not want to make her more mad than she was because she was always mad,” he said sadly. 

“Did she ever hit you?” I ask after a few seconds of silence between us. 

_I cannot believe I am asking my brother if my Mother ever hit him._

His momentary silence is all he has to say. 

“Not very often,” he said after a few seconds and even though I knew the answer was coming it still hit like a ton of bricks. 

“The fact that it was at all makes it unacceptable,” I spat out. 

“It’s okay,” Jon says and my anger spikes again. 

“It is NOT okay. It is nowhere near okay! My mother beat you and you say it is okay? How did I never see it? How did Father never see it?” I say to him and he just shrugs. 

“She was extremely careful to keep it away from everyone's knowledge,” Jon says calmly and his dismissiveness of this is starting to get me angry at him. 

“How are you not as angry at her as I am?” I ask him. 

“All this is new to you, I’ve accepted that this is just the way things are. Nothing can change that,” he says, still not truly looking up at me. 

“That is not the way things should be, and definitely not the way they will be going forward. Because I am done with this shit. If she ever tries to do anything to you ever again, you come tell me! I know you won’t want to, but as future Warden of the North I _order_ you to tell me,” I say stepping towards him and he looks up at me with a small smile. 

“Okay...my lord,” he says and I crack a smile. He sways on his feet before looking up at me again. “Is it really okay if I stay?” 

_Man what has she done to him?_

“Jon, there is no one in this world to whom I would more willingly trust my life. And I have. If I did not trust you as completely as I do, I would not have stayed down against the wildlings,” I say to him looking him directly in the eyes, hoping my point gets through his thick skull. “Father is leaving in three days and if I am going to even have a chance at not knocking this place down while he is gone, I am going to need your help.” 

He lets a light laugh and nods. 

“I think you will need less help than you think, but I will be here for whatever you need,” he says. 

“I always thought you would end up at the Wall,” I muse to him and he just shrugs. 

“So did I,” he says, his eyes moving down again, but more in embarrassment than shame this time. 

“A certain exotic blonde doesn’t have anything to do with this change does she?” I ask not able to help with the smirk on my face as I ask. 

Despite his head being pointed at the ground I can see the blush creep onto his cheeks followed by a sly smile. 

“What happened?” I prod and he looks up at me with a smile. 

“The night Bran got poisoned, we uhhh, we kissed,” he stutters out and I can’t help the huge grin that forms on my face. I consider giving him a hard time but decide against it as he looks down again. 

“I’m happy for you Jon,” I say sincerely and he smiles at me.

“Just don’t tell Theon, I can’t handle his smug face right now,” Jon says and I chuckle at him. 

“Secret is safe with me,” I say to him but then I let out a big sigh because I know where my next stop has to be. 

“Okay, I need to go find Father,” I say and see Jon tense up again. 

“Do you really need to tell him, he is leaving soon, can’t we just leave it,” Jon says quietly. 

I can see why he might not want Father to know but I am not keeping this from him or anybody. I am not letting my siblings near that woman again without them knowing exactly what she has done to their brother. 

“I am not keeping this from him Jon. You may not like it but this is the way it is. You spent too long in misery trying to protect all of us from an ugly truth. Well now it is our turn to take care of you.” 

It takes a second but soon he nods in agreement. 

“I will come see you later,” I say and depart the room. 

_I need to see Father right now!_

Did he know and not do anything? 

OR did he just not see it? 

I am not sure I like either possibility but right now I am surrounded but a lot of unpleasant solutions to a horrifying question. 

This is what happens when everyone, including me, is too stupid to see what is right in front of us. I mean looking back on it I don’t know if I truly didn't see this or if I saw and turned a blind eye to what I prayed was not the truth. 

I mean it makes perfect sense now why Jon let me win in all of our spars. If he beat me, my own Mother would either beat or starve him. If he did any one thing she did not approve of, he faced upsetting her past what her normal level was with him. 

_How did I not see it?_

That question was going to haunt me for a long time. I let my brother suffer because I was too ignorant and stupid to see the truth. 

As I approach the hallway that leads to Father’s office, I see Theon approaching. 

He moves to speak to me but I do not have time for him right now. 

“Not now Theon,” I say tersely. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

“No I’m not and I need to talk with my Father so unless it is life or death it is going to have to wait,” I say and he simply nods and continues down the hallway. 

I throw open the door to Father’s office without even considering knocking. 

_I do not care if the King is in there right now, I need to talk to Father right now._

When I open the door both Father and Jory who is standing in front of him look up at me shocked but I do not give them the chance to speak. 

“I need to talk to you,” I say leaving no room for argument. 

“Jory wait outside, we will finish this in a minute,” Father says and the loyal guard bows and leaves the room closing the door behind him. 

“Sit down,” Father says but I have no intention of doing so I shake my head and he leans back in his chair. 

“Did you know?” I ask him, my anger returning as he looks up at me with anger. 

“What are you talking about?” he asks, confused. 

“Did you know?” I ask more forcefully, unable to control myself. 

“Robb, I have no idea what you are trying to talk to me about right now or why you're so upset but if you just sit down an--” he says at a loss.

“Did you know that Mother starved and beat Jon growing up?!” I almost yell at him and his face goes from confused to shocked to lost in a few seconds. 

“Wh--wha--what are y-what are you talking about? She didn’t...” he stammers out. 

“Yes she did,” I say cutting him off. 

“Wha-- no. I know she never loved him but she would never…” he stammers again still struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

“Then how come she did? How come I heard her telling Jon that it was his fault Bran got poisoned and she wanted him to leave the castle and never come back because she had put up with his vile bastard presence long enough. That if he didn’t, he knew what would happen,” I spat at him. 

“She said that?” Father almost breathes out. 

“And she meant it. With every part of her being she meant it. And it was not the first time she has said something like that to him. And it did not stop there. She would beat and starve Jon if he beat me in spars or did anything she did not approve of.” 

He sits there saying nothing staring up at me trying to process everything I am saying. 

“No it’s not possible, we would have seen something,” he says the same denial I have repeated to myself but it is true and I will not have him saying it. 

“It happened and no backdoor explanation is going to change that! And do not even try to say she did not mean it or I misheard because I guarantee you, she did!” 

I wait in silence for a few more seconds before speaking again. 

“If you don’t believe me, ask her yourself!” I say to him and he looks away from me at the door. 

“Jory,” he calls out and the man steps back in the door with a distant, shocked look on his face himself. 

_I wasn’t exactly quiet in my delivery._

“Bring my wife here right now. I do not care how much she resists, you bring her to me now!” Father says, his voice holding more anger than I have ever heard before. 

Jory bows and leaves the room. 

When the door is closed, he rubs his hand over his eyes wiping away a few tears. 

“I failed him,” he says, I think more to himself than to me. 

“We all failed,” I say to him trying to accept my share of the blame. 

“But I should have known. How could I not know what my Wife was doing to my son in my own Castle. I failed him. I failed his mother. I failed my own si-,” he cuts himself off and looks up and me. 

I don’t know what he was about to say but that is the first time in my life Father ever even mentioned Jon’s mother in my presence.

_What was he going to say?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do?
> 
> Let me know! 
> 
> Next week, Ned confronts Catelyn.


	28. The Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ned talks to Cat about what he prays is not true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! I hope you had a good week! 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments on last week's chapter! I am sorry I did not get to responding to them, I am planning on doing that tomorrow! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**Ned POV**

It can’t be true. 

I mean it just...it just can’t be true. 

_I failed him._

I take a deep breath and try to calm my mind but it does not seem to be working. 

There is absolutely no way that my wife would…

Of all the ways this day could have turned, this is probably the last one I would have guessed. Because it should be just improbable. 

No beyond that, impossible.

It should be completely outlandish and laughable that anyone would even bring this up. 

But I have never seen Robb more sure of anything. 

Robb can be stubborn and emotional at times but he is not dumb and the logical side of my brain knows he would not come to me with this if he was not absolutely certain himself. Because this is also his Mother that is in question. 

But the other part of my brain wants to refuse even thinking about this. The side that has held this woman lovingly to my chest. The side that grew together with her. The side that saw her raise my children with care and compassion and love. 

Now it is possible that that same woman starved and beat my son.

My son! 

I know she never loved him, she never tried to hide that fact from me. And I had started to notice lately her increasingly open hostility towards Jon. 

From somehow blaming him for Sansa not being able to marry Joffrey to irrational anger I felt radiating off her when Jon was chosen to go against the Kingslayer.

I look over my shoulder to where Robb is standing menacingly looking towards the door waiting for Catelyn to arrive. His eyes focused on the door that stands between him and the hallway. 

It is a look I do not see on him often but is usually accompanied with his temper boiling under the surface not that far behind. 

_I failed him._

The thought won’t leave my brain because of how much I fear it could be true. 

Because now, sitting here thinking about, it scares me how much the thought of Catelyn beating Jon would explain a lot of things. 

That is why he would intentionally lose to Robb in sparring. 

Why on some nights he would not eat, claiming he was not hungry. 

Why he always calls me Lord Stark instead of Father. 

I always believed he did that to appease Cat. Which I guess he did, but in a much different way than I thought. 

She forced him to call me Lord Stark because she couldn’t get control of her own petty jealousy of my unknown lover. 

_Oh how much you don’t know Catelyn._

As I begin to think over the thousands of memories in my brain a small pattern begins to emerge. I think back to all the times Jon has actually called me Father. They were so few and far between that each time was burned into my memory. He had not called me Father in years. 

_How was I so blind to my son’s suffering?_

As the fact begins to solidify in my mind my want to both punch something and vomit both go through the roof. 

_I failed him._

I cannot wrap my brain around it. I let my wife hurt, beat, and starve my own son in my castle. She could have been lying in my arms after having just struck my son. 

How useless am I that I could be so blind to the truth that was walking right in front of me?

The barrage of memories that flood my brain with realizations to all of the undertones I either missed or chose not to think about out of my own petty need to avoid conflict. . 

I think about the petrified look on his face when Robb told Robert that Jon was better. 

I think about the time he was in this exact room and lied to me about what happened in the forest. 

I knew he lied about what happened in the forest, both of Dany’s and Robb’s reactions were enough to convey that but I assumed it was because he did not want all of the attention. 

Which I guess is still true, but definitely not in the way I thought. 

I can’t help myself when I bring my fist down hard on my desk. 

The abrupt sound makes Robb jump in surprise, no doubt lost in his own trail of thoughts. 

“Sorry,” I mumble quietly glancing back at Robb but he is still wearing his menacing glare. 

“For what exactly?” he says with resentment clear in his tone and the guilt I feel as I look back at the door, I feel like is almost enough to swallow me whole.

_I failed him._

And not just him.

I failed Lyanna. I promised her as she laid dying in my arms in the horribly named Tower of Joy in Dorne. 

The memory to clear in mind. I can still see the way her eyes dimmed as the life drained out of her. But even as it did, she was only worried about one thing and that was the small little boy she had placed in my arms. 

She kept mumbling the same six syllables as she bled out in my arms. 

“You have to protect him...you have to protect him...you have…” 

And I failed. 

I failed her. I failed Jon. I failed Rhaegar.

The man I once thought of only with a deep rage and contempt, which all evaporated as I held his son in his arms. 

If she were here, she would punch me. Then kick me. Then yell at me. 

And I would do nothing to stop her because I deserve it. I let Jon suffer because I was too ignorant and blind to see what was going on. 

My thoughts are interrupted as there is a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” I call, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. 

Jory opens the door and walks in. 

“Lady Catelyn, my lord,” he says. 

I take a deep breath before answering. 

“Bring her in,” I command and he bows before opening the door again to allow Cat to enter. 

I can tell by her immediate posture that she is not happy and I do not envy the job that Jory just had to accomplish. 

“Ned, I do not know what could possibly drive you to drag me away from Bra--” she cuts herself off as she seems to see Robb standing over my shoulder for the first time. 

As she takes in the room, Robb no doubt still glaring at her and I’m sure my face is not welcoming right now. I see her posture drop a little under our gazes but she remains firm. 

“Sit down,” I order and she does so after a moment of hesitation. 

“Tell me it is not true,” I say to her and I can hear the pleading in my own voice as I beg her to tell me that what I fear is not my reality.

She looks from me up at Robb and I can see the fear and uncertainty flicker in her eyes.

As she makes me wait in silence my anger rises in me. 

She looks back down from Robb and at me before straightening her posture. 

“Ned, I do not know what Robb has told you bu--” she starts but I am in no mood for anything but an answer. 

I can’t help myself as I bring my fist down hard again on the solid wood desk and I see her jump surprise at my interruption. 

‘DO NOT PLAY GAMES WITH ME CATELYN! ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!” I yell at her and she wilts under my harsh tone. 

It is a tone I have never used with her before because I had absolutely no reason to until now. 

“Is...it… true?” I ask slowly and deliberately as she looks up at me fearfully. 

I can see her brain working behind her eyes like she is trying to find something to say but is coming up with nothing. I see her eyes focus back on me and her face falls into a simmering anger.

“This is your fault Ned, you brought another woman’s son into my home,” she says, more anger than I have ever heard from her brewing underneath her tone. 

_How fucking dare she!_

Before I can respond Robb enters the conversation. 

“Don’t you fucking dare put this on him,” he growls from behind me. 

_He probably shouldn’t be in here for this._

“Robb,” I say, turning towards him but his eyes remain locked on Catelyn so I say his name again, which finally earns his attention. 

“Will you go stand outside?” I ask him and he gets a surprised look on his face. 

“No, I want to stay,” he says determinedly. 

“That was not a request, go stand outside,” I say looking him directly in the eyes. 

“You’re serious?” he asks disbelievingly and I nod in affirmation. 

For a second, I think he is going to challenge me again but his eyes drop in defeat before nodding his head reluctantly. 

He moves towards the door all the while continuing to glare at Cat on his way out. I wait in silence watching him leave the room before the door closes firmly behind him. I look back down at Catelyn and she looks slightly relieved but her posture is betraying her nervousness. 

She is looking down at her lap before looking up at me and I can see the determined anger return to her eyes. 

I stare at her waiting to see what she is going to do. I can feel my anger swirling in my gut as we stare at each other. 

I have more patience than she does, always have, so I am not surprised when she talks first.

“Are you just going to stare at me or are you going to say something?” she asks with an air of superiority I do not usually see from her. 

I seem to be learning a lot about my wife today.

_Do I even know the woman in front of me? Or is the angry, vindictive, delusional woman in front of me actually a completely stranger?_

“I’m trying to decide if I even recognize you,” I simply and she scoffs. 

“That’s just ridiculous,” she says looking at the wall. 

“It’s really not,” I say, earning her stare again. “See the woman I thought I knew was a loving and kind woman who is always nice to the staff around her and is compassionate to all. But what I am looking at now is a woman full of anger and delusion and carries herself nothing like my wife.” 

“No you do not get to put this on me, you are the one that brought _him_ back here. You could have left him where you found him and done with it like every lord in the Seven Kingdoms would have but no! You brought that whore’s child back within my walls and made me accept his vile presence. Since I had to accept him, he had to accept his rightful place.” 

_How could I not have known who I was sleeping next to for 17 years?_

“His rightful place?” I ask with disgust. 

“Yes.” 

“And his rightful place was being starved and beaten by a narrow-minded woman?” I ask again, my anger swirling again to new heights. 

“No! His rightful place is below my children His betters! If he did not learn his place, he would rise up and replace Robb! I was preventing that from happening. And any time he had trouble understanding where his place was, he was reminded of it! If he had learned faster, he would not have needed his lessons! It is his fault! I did what no one else had the foresight to do.” 

If this vile shit was what she was filling Jon’s head with, no wonder he is so withdrawn and downtrodden. What’s worse is she probably got him to believe it. 

_I truly do not know her._

“You are not blaming this on him,” I almost growl at her and she scoffs again. 

“He made me do it, it is only his fault,” she says with the same air of superiority and I feel my anger snap. I shoot out of my chair and grab it from behind before swinging it with all of my might into the stone wall behind me. 

I look down at the chair in my hands and see the two legs that hit the wall are now broken and splintered in every direction. I toss the chair to the side and look back down at Catelyn. 

She is looking up at me with fear in her eyes but I am past caring what she thinks.

“I don’t know how I ever thought I loved you,” I say quietly and more calmly than I thought I was capable of to be honest as I stare at the wall off to the side. 

“That is not my fault, you drove a wedge between us the moment you decided to bring the bastard back to Winterfell. A wedge I could never cross,” she says in response. 

“A wedge I thought had been removed but now I realize you just drove it so deep between us that I could not even see it. You could have removed it. You could have accepted I made a mistake and been civilized about it. And I thought you had been. I thought you had grown to accept Jon’s place here. I knew you would never like it or love him, but I never thought you would do this. Only a monster could do this to a child. And I am a monster as well for having let you get away with it for so long,” I say calmly. 

I turn towards her and she is still looking up at me with a determined and angry look. 

“You are overreacting,” she says and is about to say something else but I am uninterested. 

“And you sound pathetic. Trying to blame your monstrosities on a helpless innocent child who has done nothing but love and care for all of your children despite you giving him countless reasons to do the exact thing you fear. He is closest with both Robb and Arya, giving them a friend to trust where that is in short supply. And he struck a prince, risking his life by doing so, to protect the daughter you raised to hate him from being raped. If you have not seen by now how unprovoked, monstrous and childish your actions are you never will.” 

As I finish, I see her tough posture sulk slightly. 

“Robb,” I call out knowing my oldest is still right outside the door. 

He opens the door with a deeper scowl than before, which I frankly did not think was possible. He looks down at Catelyn with a deep anger before he looks at me.

“Gather Arya and Sansa in Dany’s room. Don’t tell them anything before I get there,” I say to him calmly and he gives me a curt nod. I look down at Catelyn and she has a panicked look on her face

“What are you going to tell them?” she asks now with fear in her voice. 

“The truth,” I responded simply grabbing the chair next to her and moving behind my desk. The destroyed chair is still sitting in pieces in the corner. 

“No you can’t,” she says pleadingly. 

“I am going to tell my children what you have done. They deserve to know, what they do with that information is up to them,” I say ignoring her pleas. 

_I am done listening to her._

“You cannot take them from me. They are not just your children. You cannot do this,” she pleads again but it falls on deaf ears. 

“This is all you're doing. Not mine. We have long tried to ingrain in our children that all actions have consequences. I never thought I would have to go over that concept with my wife. But you starved and beat my son. You knew what that meant and how I would react otherwise you would not have hidden it from me or anyone. Well I did find out. Way too late, but I did and now your actions have consequences.” 

“Please do not take my children. I was only trying to protect them” she says, tears starting to come to her eyes.

“No. You weren’t. That is your own rationalization to yourself to hide your petty and jealous feelings over a woman I have not seen in 17 years,” I see anger start to return to her posture but I am not going to let her have a single word. 

“And let’s get one thing fucking clear. I am not throwing you out of this castle right now because I will not pull a mother from her son’s bedside when he needs her most. I also do not want the spectacle of sending you off only a few days before the Royal family departs. We are at a time right now where we must make tough choices and if your Family was not as important as they are, you would be hanged. You will be allowed to stay but you have lost all rights to give your opinion on anything. To me, to Robb, you give no advice, you try to convince him of nothing, you can give no orders to anyone, you care for your son and that is all! I am doing this for Bran and for Robb, not you, because unlike you I will not hurt a child for his parents' mistake.” 

Strong contempt in my voice and she meekly nods her head.

I see her wipe a tear from her eyes but her eyes are still holding a deep anger in them. 

“I never thought you would be so short-sided,” she says and I can tell she is deliberately trying to get a rise out of me again but she is not going to get it. 

“Just because I am letting you stay does not mean that Robb will. In a few days this will be his seat. If I were you, I would start worrying about that rather than your idiotic anger towards me and my son,” I say calmly and her scowl deepens. 

“Jory,” I call and the loyal bodyguard steps into the room with his own scowl on his face. “Take Lady Catelyn back to Bran’s room. She is not allowed to leave except for the basic necessities. Understood?” I ask him. 

“Lady Stark,” he says to her, gesturing towards the door. 

“Robb will need all the help he can get when you leave, are you really going to take me away from him when he needs me most?” she asks standing in front of me. 

I let out a small laugh at the question. 

_How does she think Robb even wants to see her, let alone listen to her?_

“I am about to go tell your two daughters you starved and beat their brother, if I were you, instead of worrying about your standing in this castle, I would start praying to your worthless Southern gods that either one of them speak to you again,” I say calmly.

I can see the question in her eyes, one I have seen blossom in her eyes countless times when we would get in an argument about Jon but this time, I can tell she is finally going to ask it. 

“You loved her, didn’t you? The bastard’s mother,” she says. 

I let a smirk appear on my face before responding. 

“More than you could ever know. More than I ever loved you. I miss her with every step I take,” I say to her sincerely because it is true. I miss Lyanna, Brandon and Father almost more than I can bear, I just don’t necessarily mean it in the way she thinks I do.

She scowls at me further before Jory leads her from the room. 

As she leaves, the guilt returns to my stomach.

_How did I not see it? How could I have not seen what she was doing to my own son?_

I break down as tears fill my eyes and I collapse, head down on my desk, letting my anger and disappointment in myself come streaming out. 

I know I need to find Jon, and that is second on my to do list, but first is informing Sansa, Dany, and Arya.

I wipe the tears from my eyes and try to recompose myself. 

_I created this shit show, not I need to fix it, the best I can._

I probably should have thrown her out, but we are already almost at war with the Lannisters, the last thing we need right now is to be at the throats of a kingdom that should be our greatest ally in the south. 

I stand from my chair and start to make my way to Dany’s room as I start to feel the exhaustion creep back into my body. 

It will be a crowded room but there is no other place for it to happen. I want Dany there, she also deserves to know and since she cannot leave her room, there is only one place this can happen. 

Rickon is too young to understand any of this but I will tell him what I can eventually. Most likely tomorrow, Sansa or Old Nan has been putting him to bed most nights anyways this past week and half.

As I walk, I go through the number of people I will need to talk to throughout the castle to find out how many knew what was going on and did nothing about it. And who was the cook who went along with Catelyn’s plan to starve Jon because she could not have done this by herself. 

_They will have hell to pay._

I enter the family hallway and I see Robb standing outside the door waiting for me. 

“Is she gone?” he asks. 

“No, I allowed her to stay to look over Bran,” I say to him and he scoffs. “That was my decision, when you become lord, you may make your own.” 

He nods at my words.

“You can count on it,” he says with malice and I nod in agreement with him. 

“Before you do anything, please just think about the repercussions,” I say.

He doesn’t give me a reaction and instead gestures to the door. 

“They are all in there,” he says and I nod. 

“This will not be easy,” I respond before opening the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do?
> 
> I know most will not be happy with Ned's choice, but you will have to trust me with this one. 
> 
> Next week, Ned tells the girls, what do you all think there reactions will be?


	29. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa worries about her trip to Kings Landing, but then news from Ned changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> Sorry I am day late, I got called into work last night and wasd not able to get it out! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

**Sansa POV**

At one point I was looking forward to the Royal Family’s arrival. I remember being so excited to see the Royal sigil come passing through the gates. 

Being excited to see the King. The Queen. 

The Prince.

But that excitement has long left my body. 

Now all I want is for them to leave. 

Which they are, but the unfortunate part is that I am going with them. 

It is not that I do not want to go to the Capital, because I do. 

I have wanted to see the South and the Capital for as long as I can remember. The blue water, busy streets, and bright colors. Just thinking about it makes me want to squeal in excitement. That part has not changed.

What has changed is my opinion on the company that will be escorting me there. Where not that long ago I would have done anything to be able to have the privilege of joining the Royal Party and particularly the Prince back South. 

Now that idea replaces any excitement and giddiness I had with fear and dread. 

I know Mother still wants me to try and accept marrying the Prince. 

_I really hope she doesn't think she is being subtle about it._

“You’ll be the Queen and your son will be the King,” she has said to me countless times since we received word of the Royal Family’s impending arrival. And it has not stopped these past few weeks. 

I have tried to get over it. 

For her. Because she is right, I would be the queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And my son would sit on the Iron Throne. But every time I even think about letting the Prince anywhere near me again, I have to fight the urge to deposit my latest meal onto the floor.

Mother just doesn’t get it. 

All she can see is the glamor and gowns of what being Queen would mean, and I can barely fault her for that as those dreams clouded my head not long ago as well. Even now the perks still have their appeal to them. 

But then I close my eyes and I can still see Joffrey struggling above me grabbing at my dress like it is his favorite toy. I can still feel his body pressed against mine as he pinned me against my door. And with the panic and fear that comes up with those wretched memories comes the loss of any desire to be in the same room as the Prince ever again. 

Just seeing him makes me feel sick and dirty, there is no way I could handle him touching me again.   
Father said he would have two guards with me at all times for our trip down and in the capital if I wanted. That did help, but I could fully disperse of the gnawing feeling that it just would not be enough. 

Father did give me the option of not going, but despite everything else, I could not turn down the chance to see the Capital. 

I trusted our Stark guards with my life. My doubt and fear did not stem from a question of loyalty. Most of their families had served my family for generations. 

It was not that, it was the thought that if Joffrey truly wanted to get to me again, he could just send his own guard to get me, the Hound. And I don’t think anyone had any expectation that any of the Stark guards could protect me from him. 

I feel a shiver go down my spine at the thought and luckily before my thoughts cannot devolve further there is a knock at my door. 

“It’s Robb,” I hear from the opposite side of the door. 

“Come in,” I say and Robb enters the room. 

He has a stormy look on his face. 

And he looks tense. 

I do not think I have ever seen him so on edge before. 

I feel fear grip me instantly. 

_What has happened now?_

“What happened? “Is someone hurt?” I ask urgently and Robb eyes dart to the side for a second, which just makes me more worried.

He must see the worry on my face as he is quick to respond. 

“No No one is hurt!” he says forcefully and I can feel some of my worry fade away, but it only gives way to the next question. 

_If no one is hurt, why did I come in here looking so angry?_

“Then why...” I start to ask but Robb cuts me off.

“Father wants to meet with you, Arya, and Dany in Dany’s room,” he states simply, his voice devoid of any emotion. 

Just flat and empty. 

_What in the world is going on?_

“Robb what is going on?” I ask pleadingly but he just shakes his head. 

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I’m sorry I can’t tell you anything, but Father asked me not to. So if you would follow me,” he says gesturing to the door. 

I nod in response and begin to lead the way out of the room. 

I open the door and am unsurprised to see Arya pacing back and forth outside the door. Robb must have gotten her first. 

“Now will you tell us what is going on?” Arya asks desperately but Robb just shakes his head no. 

“I told you, you have to wait for Father to tell you,” he says sternly, not like the warm voice I am used to hearing from my normally very loving older brother. 

“That’s not fair,” Arya says but she turns towards Dany’s door all the same. 

It is light, but I hear Robb mutter under his breath. 

“Well, fair does not have a lot to do with this,” he says more to himself than either of us. 

He opens Dany’s door and I see the light-haired girl sitting nervously upright on her bed. Arya walks in before me and when I begin to hear the door close behind me, I am surprised to see Robb staying on the other side of the door. 

“You aren’t coming in?” Dany asks before I have a chance to.

“Stay and get hounded by endless questions, no I’ll just wait for Father out here,” he says before completing the close of the door. 

I could almost hear Robb’s dry humor in his voice but for the most part the sentence is still spoken devoid of much emotion. 

I turn to Dany who is still looking at the door. 

“Did he tell you anything?” I ask her and Arya also turns to her at my question but Dany shakes her head no.

“He just came in and said he was bringing you two in here because Lord Stark wanted to tell us something,” she says, worry clear in her voice. 

“Do you have any idea what it could be?” Arya asks both of us but we shake our head no. 

“Whatever it is, it is not good,” Dany muses and I nod my head in agreement. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen Robb like that before,” I say out loud and both voice their agreement. 

“It isn’t about Bran, because we would meet in his room, and Mother would be there. It wouldn’t be just Father,” Arya muses to herself. “Do you think it has to do with the trip South?”

“I’m not sure. If it was, why would we need to meet in Dany’s room?” I answer the question directed at me. 

“Convenience? Maybe he needs to tell me something as well and thought this would be easier,” Dany offers but it does not seem quite right. 

We sit in silence for a few seconds before, unsurprisingly Arya breaks it. 

“Where is Jon?” Arya asks. 

I shake my head because I have no idea where he is and I look up at Dany and am surprised to see a small blush lighting her cheeks. 

She brings her eyes up nervously and looks at me before looking back down. 

“Dany?” I ask, a smile creeping on my face. 

“When he uhh...when he left here a little bit ago, he said he was going to go check in on Bran,” she says not looking either one of us in the eyes. 

“And why was he here?” I ask, not being able to help the smile growing on my face.

She doesn’t get a chance to respond as the door opens causing me to jump slightly. I look up to see Father walk into the room with Robb right behind him who shuts the door. 

Father is wearing a very similar look to Robb, though his looks more sad and dreary where Robb just looks angry. 

The teasing of Dany completely forgotten by all three of us as our questions comes back into our minds. 

_What in the world is going on?_

“Now will you tell us what is going on?” Arya demands as Father sits in the lone chair remaining and Robb puts his back up against the door.

Father lets out a heavy sigh as he leans back in his chair and rubs his eyes for just a second. 

“This is not going to be easy to hear. But you must. You will have questions, ones I may not have the answer to and ones that it will not be easy to answer but I promise, I will do everything I can to make this as easy as possible,’ he says very slowly and deliberately. 

“Make what easier? What is going on?” Arya demands and as I glance over, I see Dany has her hand intertwined with Arya’s.

“There has always been something in this castle that has gone unspoken. Your Mother, despite my hopes and pleas, has never held a lot of love towards Jon,” he says and I mentally scoff at the statement and Arya scoffs out loud. 

Mother spent years whispering in my ears the dangers of keeping Jon is the castle. About how he was destined to usurp Robb’s place as Lord of Winterfell and about how he would be the destruction of our family. 

The thought that I believed any of it still fills me with a deep guilt. Jon was never anything but amazing to me, and I returned with contempt and hatred. 

I focus back in on Father as he continues speaking. 

“And while I knew it was there within her, I saw it every time we fought over it over the years, I never knew it was as deep as it was. I never thought she was capable of this,” he says open-endedly. 

“Capable of what?” Dany asks, her voice carrying both fear and suspicion. 

“For I do not know how long, your Mother has been starving and beating Jon without my knowledge nor consent.”

The sentence sucks all the air out of the room. 

_It can’t be true._

She has said some mean things about Jon in the past, especially to me, but no, there is now way that my Mother is capable of this. The Mother who has held me while I cried and loved me when I needed it most. 

_It is just not possible that she would do something like this._

I look next to me and see both of the girls next to me in similar stages and shock, and in Arya’s case increasing anger.

“No,” I say before I can stop myself. 

I do not really mean to say it out loud but I cannot stop it. 

“It’s not possible,” I stammer out again and Father looks at me with sympathy. 

“How could you not have known,” Dany says with anger. 

“There is no way she could do that and us not know, I mean...I mean Jon would have said something. Right?” Arya says her face conveying her anger, confusion and hurt all at the same time. 

Father is looking upon us with guilt on his face and it is clear that he does not have the answers we need. 

I look up at Robb and he is looking over at Dany gauging her reaction.

“This is very new to all of us, and I know you want answers, but I unfortunately do not have all the answers quite yet. This is all happening very fast,” Father says. 

“Not fast enough,” Arya spats out and Father nods in agreement. 

“If you don’t have the answers, who does? How did you even find out?” Dany asks and you can hear the anger simmering in her voice.

“I didn’t figure it out,” Father says looking up behind him at Robb.

Robb takes a step forward and begins talking. 

He then lays out all that had happened, to hearing what Mother had said in the room, to confronting Jon and by the time he was done, I felt like my brain had gone blank. 

“I know this is not easy to hear, but I was not allowing any of you near her again without knowing the truth,” Robb concludes and steps back towards the door. 

_It was true._

It couldn’t be true. 

My brain did not seem to want to accept that this was true. 

Being nice to Jon, is a relatively new thing for me admittedly. But I never wished this on him. What she...did is just...cruel. 

I cannot think of another name for it. It is cruelty for cruelty’s sake. 

Arya almost has steam coming off her she is so angry. I am surprised she hasn’t left the room yet. Whether that would be to talk to Mother or to see Jon I do not know. 

“Is she still here?” Arya asks, her voice teetering on unleashing her anger. 

“Yes, she is in Bran’s room looking after him,” Father says and Arya, who had been looking at the fire, wheels on him. 

“And why are you still allowing that _woman_ near our brother ?” Arya asks and Father lets out a sigh. 

“I decided that her presence will help Bran heal when he awakens. But she has been stripped of all authority within this castle,” Father responds and Arya scoffs before walking towards the door.

“Move!” she says to Robb who had gone back to standing on the door. 

Robb looks at Father who nods his head. 

“Where are you going?” Father asks as Robb opens the door. 

“Away from you,” Arya says as she yanks the door shut behind her. 

“Where is Jon?” Dany asks.

“I honestly do not know. I have not seen him since I left to go see Father,” Robb says. 

“I am going to go find him,” Dany says but Father steps in her way. 

“No, you need to stay here, I know it is not easy, but you cannot leave the room.”

She huffs and turns to stand in front of her fireplace. 

“Robb, find him and bring him to me. Now,” she says, threat and anger brimming under her tone. 

I look down at Father and he nods at Robb before moving to stand. 

“I’ll be back,” Robb says, exiting the room. 

_I need to leave._

I get up wordlessly and move towards the door and I feel Father’s presence behind me. 

“Are you okay?” he asks sweetly but I don’t have an answer for him.

“I don’t know,” I whisper out and turn down the hallway away from my room. 

I do not know where I am going but I know I cannot go back to my room right now. I start walking, I am not sure if Father says anything else because I have stopped listening to anything, my entire brain trying and failing to come to terms with what I just learned. 

_My mother beat and starved my brother._

Why? Why does she think that is okay? Why did she do this to him, to me, to all of us?

There is part of me that is hoping that this is just some sort of messed up dream that I will wake up from here soon. 

But I know it isn’t. 

There is a smaller part of me that is hoping that Robb and Father are wrong. 

But I know they aren’t. 

I decide I need to hear it from her so when I look up to see where I am in relation to Bran’s room, I am very surprised to see Bran’s door right in front of me. 

I smirk at my legs knowing where I wanted to go before my brain got on board. 

I don’t knock, just walk into the room. 

I look at Bran and he is still in the same motionless position that he has been since he was placed in the bed. Summer is next to his bed protectively.

I think for a second that I am surprised that Mother allowed the wolf into Bran’s room but I then remember that she doesn’t get a say 

I stare at him for a few seconds, not wanting to look at the person who had stood when I walked in and was staring at me. I did not want to be dealing with this. I want to go back to when my biggest worry was if the Prince will like me or not. 

Back to when I had a non-horrible Mother. Back to when I did not have nightmares of the Prince

standing over me raping me and there was nothing I could do about it. Back to when I did not feel the overwhelming sense of guilt for how I have treated Jon. 

Back to when I thought my life could be just like a song when I know now it is the farthest thing from it. 

I finally turn towards Mother and she has a nervous look on her face, which is something I have never seen on her before. 

“Tell me it isn’t true,” I beg of her and I can feel the tears start to prickle at my eyes. 

I need her to tell me that they are wrong. 

But she looks down guiltily and that tells me everything I need to know. 

“How could you do this? How could you DO THIS?” I ask through my tears and she looks back up at me with tears in her eyes as well. 

“I did it for you,” she pleads.

“No,” I say definitively. She does not get to use me as an excuse. 

“To protect you,” she continues but I continue to shake my head. 

“I did not need protecting from Jon. Jon protected me when no one else could and when he had no reason to. I treated him like dirt for my entire life because of what _you_ taught me. But in my worst moment, you weren’t there for me, Jon was,” I say, my voice breaking and tears are streaming down my face.

She looks down again before talking. 

“Sansa, I know you think this way now but eventually you will see the nobility of what I did for you,” she says and I feel something break inside me at her blatant disregard for what I am saying. 

“No, I won’t. Because I will never think it is okay to beat and starve a helpless little boy who is more noble and honorable than you will ever be. My mother was loving and honorable and a great role model for me. But you...I do not even recognize you,” I say and begin to move out the door. 

“Sansa,” she says, starting to walk after me but is stopped when Summer steps up between us. 

I smile at the wolf before looking back up to the woman in front of me. 

“Don’t knock at my door, don’t come talk to me, just stay away from me,” I say with finality before walking out the door and as soon as I am out in the hallway, the tears I had tried and failed so desperately to hold at bay start to fully fall. 

Now I am glad to be heading South. 

Although, even Kings Landing isn't far enough away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so we got Sansa's reaction, what did you think?
> 
> Next up Arya confronts Jon about not telling the, the truth, and Robb retriever Jon for a confrontation with Dany.
> 
> There is Jonerys next chapter! I promise!


	30. The response

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya finds Jon and demands answers, then Jon has to brace himself for a tough conversation with Daenerys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I'm getting the chapter out on time this week! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, I spent a lot of time tweaking this chapter so let me know how I did! 
> 
> Stay safe!

Jon POV

I haven’t seen any members of my family since Robb disappeared to talk to Father. 

I do not know what everyone's reactions will be. 

I could not have asked for a better reaction from Robb. I cannot describe the amount of love that filled my chest as he demanded what had happened with fury and promised that he needed me by his side. 

The last thing I wanted was to take a mother away from my brothers and sisters. Because I knew what it was like not to have one.

And well...it’s not easy. 

And no matter how she treated me, she was a great mom to her kids. 

I just wasn’t good enough to receive that kind of love from her. 

I am a bastard after all. 

But Robb seemed determined when he left to go get Father. I didn't want him to have to choose between me and Lady Catelyn but he chose me seemingly without hesitation and that meant the world to me. 

_At least I know he is with me._

Everyone else though? 

I am not sure. 

Will Dany still want me even after she realizes how useless and weak I am? 

I don’t think so. I never deserved her to begin with. 

A huge part of me was wishing that it wouldn’t change the way she sees me. That somehow, she does still see me the way she did before. I don’t even know what she saw in me to begin with, and that was before she heard about this. 

But no matter how hard I wish and pray, I know that I will probably lose what I shouldn’t have had to begin with. 

My worried thoughts are not limited to just Dany

Will I still be Arya’s favorite sibling once she hears what happens?

What will Sansa think? Will she agree with what Lady Catelyn did?

And what about Father? 

Did he know what was going on and not say anything? 

That has been a thought that has haunted me ever since I first thought it as a young boy. I almost asked him thousands of times over the years but my mouth did not open every chance I got, terrified of what the repercussions were from Lady Catelyn for speaking a word after she very clearly told me not to. 

I also feared the response. 

Was the answer yes? Did he know what she was doing and was okay with it? 

I know what she was doing was wrong, even if I did deserve it, but did Father think that way or did he agree with her? 

The thoughts were the only thing occupying my head so I made my way to the one place that has always helped me clear my head. An empty courtyard with a sparring sword in my hand with emotions and hard questions shoved to the deep recesses of my mind. 

I swing for, honestly, I do not know how long, but the sun is much lower in the sky next time I look up, and my arms much more tired than they were before.

I am beginning to put the equipment away when a voice behind me breaks through the quiet night.

“How could you?” the voice says angry and strong. 

I turn and am unsurprised to see Arya standing at the entrance of the courtyard, her arms crossed and eyes blazing. 

“Robb told you?” I ask and she shakes her head no. 

“No, Father told us. But that isn’t what we are talking about. What we are talking about is the fact that they had to tell me and not you!” 

I let out a sigh and placed the sparring sword back in its place before turning back to her. 

“I couldn’t tell you Arya,” I say simply. 

“Yes you could have,” she responds immediately and I shake my head. 

“No I couldn’t,” I say trying to be more forceful but she is not having it. 

“Yes you could! You are my brother! You should have trusted me enough to tell me this!” she says and I shake my head at her. 

“It’s not about that. Arya I would trust you with my life,” I say softly to her and she scoffs at the statement but seems to cool down very slightly. 

“Then what is it about then? Why did you allow _her_ to do all of those things to you and never say anything to anybody?” she says, maintaining the anger in her tone.

I let out a sigh looking to the side trying to find the words to explain it to her but nothing seems to come immediately. 

“You have a mother…” I try to start but she cuts me off. 

“No I _had_ a mother,” she says and I roll my eyes. 

“You _have_ a Mother Arya. You may be mad at her for a long time and I of all people will be the last one to blame you for that. She was never a mother to me, but she was to you. To all of you. 

She was loving, kind and was everything a mother should be,” I say pausing as I see Arya start to rise in anger again at the explanation. 

“What does--,” she starts but it is my turn to cut her off. 

“Let me finish,” I say and she huffs before looking back at me expectantly. “I know what it is like to grow up without a mother. As far as bastards go, I got extremely lucky. You, Robb, Bran, almost everyone accepted me into this family without issue, and while I love you for that, nothing can replace a mother’s love. I knew what she was doing to me was wrong, but I was not going to be the reason that that luxury was stripped from any of you because I was not strong enough to handle it” 

“Did you ever think that it was selfish of you to keep from us how horrible our Mother was from us? That allowing any of us to let that woman near us was doing more harm than good?” Arya asks, her voice softer now, but still carrying her anger clearly. 

“No I didn’t,” I say clearly and she scoffs again. “Because I watched how she was with you, and how she looks at me is exactly the opposite of how she looks at you. She loves you. All of you. I was not going to take that from you.”

“What about Sansa? I mean she is better now but are you telling me she would not have been better off not having _her_ whispering what she did into her ears?” she trails off. 

I let out a sigh and look away for a moment before looking back at Arya. 

“I’m not claiming to have all of the right answers Arya, but growing up watching your Mother with all of you, giving you the love and attention I truly desired, I could not bring myself to take that from you,” I say honestly and earnestly and Arya lets out a defeated huff. 

“Well I am still mad at you because what you did was stupid. Very stupid,” she says in what I expect is supposed to be a scolding voice. “But I guess I can maybe see why you did what you did.” 

I nod and smile at her and I can see a smile wanting to creep onto her face but she manages to stave it off. 

I can see her mind start to turn and see the anger coming back into her body as she tenses. 

“You know you don’t have to stay mad at her forever,” I say and she scoffs in return. 

“Yes I do. We are a pack, what she did to you, she did to all of us,” she says with certainty. “And don’t try and defend her! She is dead to me! What she did to you, she will never be able to undo. And if I never see her again, I will be fine with that and there is nothing that can change my mind.” 

I nod at her in agreement but she looks at me skeptically for a few seconds.

“Okay,” I say and after a few more seconds she nods. 

_The one thing she is not mentioning is that what all she did, I provoked and deserved. It would not have been as bad if I wasn’t as stubborn._

I turn to start to resume the putting away of the equipment when Arya’s voice stops me. 

“Will you leave that stuff out?” she asks and I raise my eyebrow at her. “I need to hit something and if it isn’t that then I do not know who it will be.” 

I almost laugh at the statement but the look in her eyes and the tension in her shoulders says she is dead serious. 

“Fine, but you are putting it away, and if anyone asks you found it like this,” I say, not being able to help the worry in my voice right now. 

Arya scoffs at my request. 

“Father won’t care that I’m out here doing this,” she says dismissively, moving to pick up the sword she recognizes as the one she uses when we do our lessons. 

_It is not your Father I am worried about._

The thought almost crosses my lips but I am able to hold it in. 

“But you're cleaning it up, deal?” I ask and she nods. 

“Deal,” she says grabbing the sword. 

“Deal,” a voice calls out and I jump in surprise. 

I look back towards the entrance and see Robb occupying the doorway now. 

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask and he smirks at me. 

“Long enough,” he says moving forward. 

I glance at Arya and she has a slightly panicked look in her eyes. 

“Don’t worry you two, your secret is safe with me, although I do not know if it needs to stay a secret any longer,” he says and Arya turns back to the dummy and starts whacking hard at it.

“Dany asked me to come grab you,” he says and I almost immediately feel worry flood me again. 

I was hoping to live in foolish hope for a little while longer but apparently, she wants to get this done. My worry and concern must have shown as Robb speaks again before my mind can spin too far out of control. 

“Before you even think about not going up there, if you don’t show your face soon, she is going to come find you. And that will just be worse, for everyone.” 

I know he’s right. 

I take a deep breath. 

“It’ll be fine,” Robb says and I nod my head at him, not convinced that he is right but I set off in the direction of her room anyways. I think I hear Robb say something to Arya but I am too far away to hear now. 

As I get closer and closer to the room housing the woman that, even though I have only known her for a relatively brief period of time, she has become too important for me to lose her. I can handle it if she does not see me the way she says she did. 

That would be hard, but as long as I don’t lose her altogether, I’m sure I can manage. 

But I fear I will lose her. 

Sooner than it seems like I should, I arrive in front of Daenerys’ door and I pause. I should knock. 

I know I need to but I pause and take a deep breath. 

I raise my fist and hesitate but I force my hand forward and knock three short times. 

I find myself nervous that somehow, she is not there or won’t open the door even though I know she has been waiting for me. At least according to Robb. 

As she opens the big, loud, creaky door I look down to the ground, not wanting to see the disappointment in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything so I look up to make sure I even knocked on the right door and see her standing there and I am struck once again with just how beautiful she is. 

Her hair is flowing gently over her shoulders and has almost completely gone back to her natural beautiful blonde. Her eyes are still the unique and beautiful purple. Her figure is covered only in a thin nightshirt that I have to tear my roaming eyes away from before they get lost. 

I almost step forward and bring her lips onto mine like it has become natural to do over the past couple of days every time I have come to see her. 

But this is not every other time. 

I know that. 

And she knows that.

I take in her body language and posture and I can tell she is angry. She doesn’t say a word as she steps to the side and lets me inside the room closing the door behind me. 

I move in front of the fireplace and turn around to see her still standing near the door. There is a good couple of feet between us right now, but it may as well be miles.   
I have no idea how we are supposed to start this conversation. 

_What should I say?_

I have never been very good with words and it does not seem I am improving anytime soon. 

“I’m sorry if you were waiting long, Arya had some choice words for me,” I start trying to break the tension. 

“It’s okay, it wasn’t too long. Much longer though, I would have come and found you,” she says with a slightly cold tone but I let out a chuckle anyway. 

“Robb said the same thing,” I say and she nods in response, not finding it ironically funny like I did. 

We sit in silence again for a few seconds before I speak again. 

“I don’t know what to say,” I put out there, deciding honesty is the best path right now. 

“How about you start with why you never said anything?” she says and I look down at my feet. 

“They didn’t deserve to have their Mother taken from them,” I state simply after a few seconds and she scoffs. 

“Even if it is a mother like that?” she asks tersely but I nod anyways.

I take a beat to make sure my words come out right before starting. 

“It’s true, she was not the kindest to me...” I start but am cut off. 

“NOT THE KINDEST? Jon, that is like saying the King does not have the best opinion of my family,” she says loudly taking a step forward. 

“I know. You don’t have to remind me of that,” I say, feeling my anger spike slightly at her tone. 

_Why is she so mad at me?_

“Then why did you defend her? Why not say anything for YEARS? Why protect her?” she asks, her voice raising again as she takes another step towards me again. 

“Because they did not deserve to go through the same thing we did!” I state forcefully and my anger causes her to take a step back.

I take a deep breath before continuing. 

“I know, _we_ know, how hard it is to grow up without a parent. Even when the people around you are as great as I had it is not the same, I cannot imagine what it was like for you,” I say. 

She has started to tell me bits and pieces of what her brother was like and he fit the image perfectly for what I imagined Targaryens being like growing up. I see her wipe a tear from her eye and I feel a small amount of guilt for causing it but I push through. 

“What she did was...wrong,” I have to force out because I still cannot help the small part of me that says the opposite. The part she drilled into me for years. 

_You deserve this. This is all your doing. This is your fault not mine._

She may be right... _focus!_

“But she was never like that to any of her children. I watched her all the time, desperate for an excuse to believe that she was not a fantastic Mother. That she treated them anything like the way she treated me but it was never there. Because she treated them with all of the care and love a mother should. Just because I did not get it does not mean I was going to be the reason my siblings lost that,” I finish and let out a breath. 

She takes a moment to respond. 

“It would not have been your fault,” she says deliberately but I scoff and shake my head. 

“Yes it would have,” I say and she takes another step forward so we are just a few feet apart. Just outside of arm's length. 

“No it wouldn’t!” she says as it is her turn again to be forceful and I look into her eyes again. 

They hold a fierce passion but a deep caring look into them and I feel myself being drawn into them once again. 

“Jon, what she did to you, none of it was your fault,” she says with care and finality but I feel my barriers going up anyways just like they have been trained to because she has to be wrong. I risk a glance up at her before my eyes return to the ground. 

_It is my fault. Right? Why else would she do it? If I was better, she wouldn't have done it._

“No you do not get to do that,” she says and I look up at her in surprise. “You don’t get to close up because you do not want to talk about this. You did the same exact thing the night before the Royal Family arrived when me and Robb questioned you about why you didn’t eat and you gave us some bullshit excuse. That may have worked then, but not tonight.” 

I look up at her and she is standing right in front of me now looking me square in the eyes, and I feel my mouth start to form words I don’t want coming out. 

“It is my fault,” I hear myself whisper as she shakes her head no. 

“No it’s not,” she says again but my stubbornness won’t let me believe it. 

“Yes it is. If I was better, she would not have needed to do anything to me,” I say out loud the one sentence I have never thought I would. 

“There was nothing you could have done to please or placate her. She is a cold, vile and vindictive and religious bitch who hates you just because of how you came into this world and she refuses to place the blame on your Father. It does not matter how great of a mother she is to her children, what she did, and what she is capable of, she does not deserve to be their Mother.”

I feel myself shake my head in denial but my brain is just one jumbled mess. 

I want more than anything to believe her but there is just something inside me that will not allow myself to accept it. She is saying almost everything I dream of hearing but for some reason I cannot believe her even though I trust her more than anyone. 

I feel tears welling up in my eyes as we have backed up to where I am standing against the wall and she is less than a foot in front of me. Her eyes bearing into imploring me to believe her. 

“What she did--” I start again and she cuts me off. 

“I love you Jon Snow.” 

The statement shocks me and I feel all the air leaves my body.

No one had ever said that to me before. 

Not Arya, not Robb, not Father. 

I feel the tears leak out of my eyes as she continues. 

“You are stubborn, bull-headed, and a pain in the ass. But you are the most incredible man I have ever known. Since the moment I saw you I knew there was something special about you and every moment since has taught me that being kidnapped has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because it brought me to you. You are the first person I have ever truly loved in my life. I used to cry myself to sleep knowing that love and the ability to love will never be a gift given to me. But I look into your eyes and all thoughts leave my mind. I look at your lips and I want to bring them crashing against my own whether we are alone or in the middle of the Great Hall. You are strong, passionate, kind, caring, and loyal and I do not know what I would do without you and I pray I never have to find out. And the worst part is even as I say that with every ounce of my heart, I know there is a part of you that does not believe me when I say that because of what that woman did to you. To believe that you do not deserve all the happiness in the world. Because you do. I hate that she has forced you to be the one person in the world who does not see how incredible of a man, brother, and friend you are to everyone around you. I love you Jon Snow and even if you do not believe them today, I am going to keep repeating those words until you do.” 

_I believe her._

With all of my being I believe her. As I look into her eyes, I feel like I can feel her soul entering mine.

I need to say it back. 

Saying anything else would be false. 

But the words seem to stick in my throat and can’t come out. 

So instead I try to show her. 

I surge forward, desperately claiming he lips and she responds in kind with her own fury. It is the most passionate kiss we have ever had. Her tongue demands entrance into mine and I willingly surrender to the invasion. 

Our tongues duel for control and I begin to move my hands down from her hair, down her back, loving the feel of her skin through her thin nightshirt. 

My hands travel farther down before the rest at the small of her back and I feel her hands start to run themselves through my hair hungrily. My hands hesitate for a second, hesitant to go further down but before I can think, she jumps up into my arms, both of us refusing to break mouth contact, our tongues still dueling for control. 

I catch her easily and my hands independently of thought begin kneading her wonderful flesh that makes up her ass as if it were dough for bread. The very thing that has been the subject of many dreams since she came into my life. 

I strengthen my grip and pull her as close to me as possible as she wraps her legs around my waist and we continue our passionate kissing. I feel my manhood go impossibly harder and there is no doubt she can feel it pressed against her thigh. 

We stay like that for a few more seconds, bucking against each other, neither one of our tongues willing to give up control before we break apart both gasping for breath. 

“I love you too,” I say before my brain is out of its lusty fog and I am still gasping for breath. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

I say it over and over again like a small chant as I lean my head forward to lean against the top of her heaving chest. I keep saying the small chant like it is as necessary for my survival as my breathing is. 

Which it is. 

Because she is. 

And I need her to know that she means the world to me. 

Just like I do to her. 

I feel the common thought of denial pop up in my brain but I shove it aside, to blissfully happy to let my brain ruin it. 

If I can trust her with my life, I can trust her with my soul. 

I raise my head and our lips meet in a slow and loving kiss. 

When we break apart, she keeps her eyes closed for a second longer but when she does, I can see the same things I am feeling in my eyes. 

Love, lust, care, and passion.

“Stay with me,” she whispers and I know exactly what she is asking. 

“Nowhere else I would rather be,” I say. 

Nothing more is going to happen tonight, we both know that but I know it would take an army to get me to leave this room and her side tonight. 

I can see she is about to disentangle herself from my body but I do not want to give up the comforting and lovely feeling of her body pressed against mine. Before she can get too far, I start to walk us over to her bed. 

It is not hard at all as she truly is very light. She removes the cloak from my shoulders as we walk across and I feel her giggle against me as we go before I collapse us into her bed. 

I stand quickly and remove my jerkin and trousers so I am left in a thin shirt and my small clothes. I turn back towards the bed and she is staring at me with a loving gaze and slightly lustful smile. I move into bed next to her as she pulls the covers over us and we adjust so she is lying on my chest, my arms around her. 

And in that moment, I decide that there is no place better than this. In her bed, with her. Her body pressed firmly against mine completely relaxed and able to just be with each other. 

Not worried about anything else.

We lie there in content silence as I hear her breathing start to even out. 

“Don’t ever leave me Jon Snow,” I hear tiredly whisper. 

“Never in my life will I leave you,” I say back and I look down at her to see a content smile on her face. 

I watch her for a few seconds before sleep begins to claim me as well as I fall into the most restful sleep I have ever had in my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do?
> 
> I know that Arya should not have confronted Jon like that but she is very young and confrontational in normal situations so I wanted to make sure I stayed true to her character. Same with the Dany conversation. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Next week Ned talks to Jon and leaves a major decision in his hands, but before that Arya while training is happened upon by an unexpected pair! Who do you think it is?
> 
> See you next week!


	31. The Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHile taking her anger out on a dummy, Arya is happened upon by the recently poisoned prince. All the while Ned approaches Jon with both an apology and offer he has been dreaming of his entire life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe and happy! Next chapter is up! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Let me know how I do!

**Arya POV**

I hear Jon starts to walk out of the yard but I push the outside noise away and whack at the worn dummy a few more times. 

I was not joking when I said I had to hit something and I did not know who or what that would be which is why I was glad I found Jon with all of the equipment already out. 

In the couple of lessons we have had, we had not used the dummy yet, still focusing on footwork and advancing.

But right now is not about good form, it is barely about practicing. It is only about releasing the deep anger and hatred coursing through my body. 

Before I get too lost in my thoughts, I hear Robb approach behind me and I pause my beating for a second. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

_Do I look okay?_

I huff before hitting the dummy a few more times swinging harder than before. When I finish, I wheel around to look at my older brother. 

“Does that answer your question?” I ask him and he chuckles which I do not appreciate. 

“I guess it does,” he says and I turn back to the dummy to begin whacking it again but Robb talks before I can. I let out a quiet growl at not being able to just whack at the dummy in peace. That is all I want to do. 

“If you want to talk about it, know I am here,” he says and I let out a breath. 

A part of me knows I am only mad at him right now because he is here in front of me.

I am really mad at _her._

And Jon, a little bit. 

But that is not the part I am listening to right now. 

“Right now, talking is the last thing I want to do,” I say and he nods at me before nodding his head at the wooden sword in my hand. 

“How long has Jon been teaching you that?” he asks with a smirk. 

“Not long, he gave me and Dany a lesson just before the Royal Family got here and we also had one when all you went out hunting. Dany was not there for obvious reasons,” I say in response and he gets a weird smile on his face as he looks over in the direction of where our rooms are located. 

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” he says pushing off of the post he was leaning against. 

“Make sure you clean this up before you go inside, otherwise Rodrik will blame it on me,” he says with a smile. 

“Maybe I will leave it out then,” I say as he begins to walk away and he laughs as he retreats out of sight. 

I feel myself smile for a second but then I look and see the dummy in front of me and I am quickly reminded and the flood of thoughts storm my brain as to why I am out here in the first place and I let out a scream before beginning to whack at it again. 

_How could she do this?_

I was never the perfect daughter like Sansa and I know Mother disapproved of a lot of my decisions, from my clothes to how I act. But every time I looked into her eyes, behind the disapproval was a light of love that would shine through and I knew that everything would be okay.

But now I know it was all a lie. If she truly ever loved me at all, she would never have done what she did. 

I love Jon, more than anyone else and she beat him. 

She starved him. 

She slammed it into his head that he was less than we were. 

When he is the opposite. 

He is the best person I know and I hate myself and him that I didn’t fully notice what was going on. And that he did not tell me. 

I was the most aware out of everyone that Mother still harbored more resentment for Jon than people thought, but I could never have imagined that she was capable of this. 

I whack at the dummy a few more times and I feel my arms start to fatigue but I push through. I look up and her face appears on lifeless form in front of me and I whack the dummy even harder. 

If she thinks for a second that Jon is less than we are than she should find a mirror! 

That woman, if she will stoop to that level, is beneath us and not worthy of my time, energy, or attention. 

_She is dead to me._

I hope I don’t see her again. 

Now I am looking forward to leaving for the capital. Away from her. 

I would prefer it if she left and I could stay here, but that is unfortunately not my call. And it never will be. 

_It should be though._

I let out another growl as another image of _her_ standing above Jon using a metal pan to beat him across the face with it and I start angrily hitting the dummy all over again.

It is images like those that continue to fuel my uncontrollable anger. And I don’t know if any of them ever happened, but I don’t know they didn’t. 

And that is the thought continues to drive me to beat the helpless dummy senseless until a voice interrupts my physical tirade. 

I hear the words but don’t capture the voice. 

“Are you okay?” the voice asks me and I let out a growl before turning towards another person who has unnecessarily interrupted me. 

_Seven Hells will someone just let me vent my frustration in peace!_

“Do I look okay? I ask angrily, turning towards the person expecting to see Father or maybe someone else. 

But I am shocked to see Prince Tommen standing there instead. 

_How is he there?_

Last I heard he was still unconscious. 

I look at his face and he seems genuinely curious, slightly scared, and also looks slightly tired. 

“Sorry,” I force out because I know I just inadvertently yelled at the Prince and, while I really don’t care too much about that, I know I’m supposed to. 

He lets out a breath before responding. 

“It's no problem, you just seemed to be hitting that dummy really hard and I wanted to be sure you were okay,” he says and while I still feel my anger coursing through my veins, I try really hard not to let it show. 

It does not help that his brother tried to rape Sansa, but everything I know and noticed about him has seemed to tell me he was nothing like Joffrey. 

Instead of answering his question I decided to ask one of my own, I remember Robb saying once that if you don’t want to answer a question, ask one of your own. 

“How are you out here? Last I heard you were still passed out in your room,” I say and he lets out a small self-conscious laugh which is not the reaction I was expecting. 

“I woke up first this morning. I have been in and out most of the day, but when I finally fully woke up, it was night time. Your Maester advised me to stay put but just laying in that room doing nothing but watch my Mother cry and rub my cheek was making me restless. Luckily, my uncle was able to convince Mother to let me walk around for a little bit,” he says and he indicates to the very quiet Kingslayer standing at the entrance of the courtyard. 

This was the first time I had even noticed him and he nods at me but I just look back at the boy in front of me.

I kind of stare at him not really knowing what to say but luckily, he starts again so I do not have to. 

“Your Father lets you…?” he asks nervously and open-endedly, gesturing to the wooden sword still in my hand. 

I shrug at him in return. 

“Not really, but I hounded my brother until he caved and started to teach me,” I say and I feel the anger swirl at me at the thought of Jon. 

_What would his punishment have been if Mother had found out he was teaching me to fight?_

The thought fills me with dread but the Prince’s voice brings me back out of those haunting thoughts.

“You oldest brother?” he asks. 

“No. My brother Jon,” I say slightly annoyed and begin to prepare for the anger that I will feel when his next question comes. 

_“The bastard, right?”_

That is what he will ask I am sure of it because that is all anyone knows about Jon. 

“Oh, the one who fought my uncle right?” he asks, gesturing behind him and I am shocked and it must have shown on my face. 

I am able to nod in affirmation and he splits into a big grin. 

“He is really good. I love going to watch my Uncle spar and I haven’t seen anyone give Uncle Jaime that much of a challenge in a long time, well if you don’t count the time when he lost the tournament to Ser Loras, but that was a joust, not a spar,” he says rambling slightly but I am just surprised that he asked something different than what I expected.

“Yeah, he has given me a few lessons in private but I am not very good yet,” I say trying to make my voice as pleasant as possible and he smiles. 

“Well you're better than me. Uncle Jaime said before we left Kings Landing that when we get back he is going to start to train me! Hey! You are going to come back South with us right maybe you could join us!” he says excitedly. 

I do not know how to respond to the excited Prince in front of me, the anger and wanting to hit something are still running through my brain but the happy, slightly tired, energetic boy in front of me has those feelings slipping away slightly. 

“I don’t know if my Father would be okay with that,” I say and he gives me a weird look. 

“Tommen, we should get you back to your room,” the Kingslayer says and the Prince turns towards him. 

“Really?” he says whiny and I can almost feel a smile form on my face.

“We have been out here too long already, let’s go,” he says with finality and the Prince lets out a huff. 

“Well it was nice talking to you. I hope your brother wakes up soon and I am sorry for whatever you're mad about,” he says. 

“Thank you,” I say with sincerity and he gives me a small smile before turning and walking out of the courtyard. The Kingslayer looks at me a moment before turning and following his nephew out of my sight. 

It occurs to me that I should have said something to him about him just being poisoned as he walked away, but he was so full of energy I completely forgot it even occurred. 

I stand there watching after where the pair walked off for a few more seconds, before I turn back towards the courtyard behind me and I see the beat up dummy and different equipment scattered around the yard and any of the anger that I had forgotten comes flooding back immediately. 

I grip the wooden sword still in my hand tighter before walking back up to the dummy before taking a few good whacks at it. 

_Why did this have to have to happen? How could she do this?_

Those are the questions that won’t leave my mind. 

I trusted her and she did this, I will never forgive her. 

Never. 

And with that clear in my mind I pull my arms back and begin another barrage against the helpless dummy. 

* * *

**Ned POV**

I rub my eyes trying to make them sting less but I know it won’t work. 

This is what happens when you do not sleep at all. I had had enough nights of no sleep over the years to know the feeling.

Though none of them were like this one. 

I was not fighting off sleep like those nights. 

Tonight sleeping had not once entered my mind. 

All I could think about was Jon and Cat and all the people I had disappointed. 

I disappointed my sister, I let her son be beaten inside my own castle for years and was too dumb to see it. 

I disappointed my father. He was not perfect but he would have known what was going on. He would have been smart enough to see it. 

I disappointed my brothers. I swore to both of them I would help protect this family and I failed them both. 

I failed Rhaegar. He went to war for his family and for his love of my sister, and I failed my good brother. 

The list goes on and on but it all added it up to no sleep. Just me sitting at my desk staring at a door that I could barely see after my candle had burned out hours ago. 

_I need to talk to Jon_

I glance up and wonder if it is morning yet, there is no window in my office so I do not know actually how long I have been sitting here. 

I stand and attempt to take my first step only to find my legs do not want to seem to work. I give them a second to readjust to needing to move again before walking towards the door, stretching my legs a little. I open it and the door gives its customary big whine at its hinges. The candles lining the walls are getting low and I see a guard standing at the end of the hall attentive. 

“My lord,” he says to me as I pass and I nod to him in response. 

Normally I try to be friendly with the guards as much as I can, get to know them, but I am in no mood to do so right now. 

I make it out onto the balustrade overlooking one of the side courtyards and see the sun has not made itself known quite yet but is on its way. 

I stand leaning on the post in front of me and watch as the sun slowly starts to crawl itself out from behind the night sky. 

_I need to talk to Jon._

It’s still too early.

Sunsets in the North are beautiful but I have always been of the opinion that the sunrises are always better. There is just something more pristine about them that sunsets do not have.

I stand watching the sun as it slowly lights the side of the castle walls then stretches its way to shining directly upon the courtyard below. 

As it does so, I notice a sparring sword sitting out in the mud and I let out a huff before starting to walk down. 

“Was it Robb or Theon?” I ask myself as I walk up into the courtyard but then I realize the sword is too small for either one of them to be using it. Well not since they were 10 or 11 years old.

That’s when it hits me. 

_Arya._

She must have come down here last night to continue the Stark family tradition. You're angry, take it out on a training dummy. 

That one stretches back thousands of years I’m sure. 

“That wasn’t me,” I hear from behind me and I turn to see Robb walking into the courtyard with a smile on his face. 

“A sword this size, I would be hoping it wasn’t you,” I say back to him and he gives me a smile. 

“Arya’s, right?”

He gives me a smirk before nodding. 

“Apparently Jon has been giving her lessons for a little while, so after last night she came down here to talk to Jon, and eventually spent some time...expressing her anger,” he says this time with a shallow smile. 

“That sounds like her,” I say and Robb nods in response. “She’s just lucky I found it instead of Rodrik.”

Robb laughs in agreement.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Robb asks me and I stare at the blade for a second before shaking my head no. 

“How about you?” I ask and he shrugs. 

“Some but it certainly doesn’t feel like it,” he responds.

I continue to look at the small blade in my hand for a few moments as silence lapses between us. 

“It has been forever since I sparred,” I say musingly. 

“We can go a round if you’d like. I think we could both use it and plus it has been forever since I’ve gotten a chance against you,” he says with a smile and I cannot help the one that spreads on mine. 

“Alright, get the swords,” I say and he walks quickly over to where the equipment is being held. It has been a long time since I sparred with Robb, but an even longer time since I sparred with Jon. 

Robb always held his own and gave me a good contest, but I was still better than him, at least I was last time we did this. But Jon, the few times we’ve sparred I beat him fairly easily. 

After his fight with the Kingslayer however, I have been curious to see how much Jon had apparently been holding back in those fights so as to not upset Catelyn. 

My arms move up and catch the big sparring sword that Robb throws at me and I focus back in on my son and waste no time in attacking him. 

I am able to disarm him pretty easily simply because he was not expecting such a fast start, but the second time he comes at me, we get locked in a good match. 

“He has improved a lot since last time,” I think with pride as we continue our movements around the small courtyard. It takes a few minutes but I finally am able to get the upper hand and after pressing it for another 30 seconds, I have my sword to his throat and I cannot help the smirk on my face as I look at his angry face. 

I lower my sword while I take a few deeper breaths from exertion. 

_I am not a young man anymore._

“You’ve gotten better,” I say and he lets out a huff. 

“Not good enough,” he says disappointed but I clap him on the shoulder. 

“You’ll get there soon,” I say and he gives me a small smile. 

“It helps that I am now training against the actual Jon instead of the shell I had been. Trying to catch him has really made me step it up if I ever want to have a chance against him,” Robb says. 

The mention of Jon reminds me of what I need to accomplish this morning, but that can wait. 

Me and Robb go another few rounds both enjoying the simplistic nature of it all until we both know it is time to see to our duties. As I am putting the equipment away, Robb asks me a question I am sure has been rattling around in his mind since last night. 

“What are going to say to Jon?” he asks and I let out a sigh. 

“The truth,” I say and Robb raises an eyebrow at me. 

“What truth?” Robb asks and his meaning and understated question is not lost on me. 

_Are you going to tell him who his mother is?_

“No I’m sorry,” I say and Robb lets out a sigh before beginning to walk away. 

He takes a few stops but then pauses and turns back to me. 

“He deserves to know,” he says looking me dead in the eyes. “After all that we...after all that you put him through, he deserves to know the truth Father,” he says and I let out a sigh this time.

_I wish I could Robb believe me._

“It is not that simple,” I say back in defense and Robb squares up on me. 

“Then make it simple, he deserves to know,” he says again and this time I nod. 

_Maybe there is a way for me to tell him._

“I’ll think about it,” I say and he nods knowing that is the end of the conversation. “Thank you for sparring with me Robb, I enjoyed it.”

He smiles at me in return and my heart gleams with joy at the sight. 

“It would have been more fun if I had won,” he says with a smile as I step up and we walk back in from the courtyard.

“Why do you think it was so fun for me?” I ask and we both laugh before we pause at a T in the hallway. 

“He deserves to know,” Robb says one more time and I nod at him before my oldest walks off down the hallway. 

I head back to my office and see Jory standing at the door when I arrive and I nod at my most trusted soldier. 

“Jory get Jon for me please,” I say and he nods silently before walking off down the hallway. 

_Robb is right I do have to tell him, I just can’t do it here and then leave. Should I stay? Should he come with us?_

I rub my forehead as I contemplate the Kingdom shattering questions rolling around my brain. 

_Do I tell him about the eggs?_

“Not unless I have to,” I say to myself. 

I think about it for a few more minutes until a plan forms in my mind. 

_It's not perfect, but Robb’s right, he deserves to know._

I turn my attention back to the paperwork in front of me but my mind cannot make sense out of any of it. I look at the endless stack uselessly until there is a knock on my door. 

Jory enters after I call him in. 

“Jon, my lord,” he says and I wave him in. 

Jon walks in like he is on pins and needles and I feel my heart squeeze in hurt. 

_What has she done to him?_

_What have I done to him?_

He sits in the chair across from me and he looks at the desk in front of him but not at me. 

It is clear he is nervous and I hate that he is. He should not be nervous about this. 

“I’m sorry, Jon. I am more sorry than you could ever know,” I say after a few seconds of silence, unable to figure out where else to start. 

Jon shrugs, still not looking at me. 

“What are you sorry for?” Jon asks and I am curious if he is in denial or wants to make me say it. 

“I am sorry for what she did to you. For not seeing it. For not stopping it,” I say hoping he hears and believes me. 

“You didn’t know?” Jon asks and I am floored. 

_How could he think I knew? Does he think I knew and didn’t do anything to stop it?_

“What?“ escapes my lips in a whisper and that is when Jon looks up at me for the first time both fear and anger in his eyes. 

“Did you know?” he asks again more forcefully. 

“No! No Jon! I had absolutely no idea! If I did none of this would have happened! How could you even think that?” I ask anger creeping into my voice but I try to keep it at bay as I have absolutely no right to be mad at him for anything right now. 

Jon just shrugs at my question. 

“You seemed to know about everything else going on in this castle,” he says as an explanation and I feel sadness grip my heart again. 

“I should have,” I say earnestly and he looks up at me again, probably reading my sincerity. “I should have known Jon, and I was stupid and dumb and selfish for not realizing it any sooner. And I want you to be able to believe me when I say that. And it may not be today or tomorrow but I hope you can forgive me, but I know I will never forgive myself for letting this happen to you.”

He looks at me for a few seconds before nodding and we lapse into silence again. 

“Is that all Lord Stark,” he asks and I feel the familiar tug when he uses the title. 

“No, first I want you to call me whatever you wish, but you are not obliged to call me Lord Stark anymore to appease Catelyn, please know this,” I say and he nods. 

The second part is the biggest part.

“It occurred to me that I never actually got an answer from you regarding the Kingsguard, now before you say anything, I want you to know that that offer is no longer available because I wanted to offer you something different.”

He gives me a confused look but I press on.

“You deserve to know who your mother is, Jon, but I cannot tell you here with all the people who are here,” I start and he interrupts me. 

“Why not?” he asks and Inlet out a sigh. 

“I just can’t, you need to trust me on that,” I say and he nods. 

I take a deep breath and continue. 

“I would like you to come South with me and your sisters to Kings Landing. You can continue to train Arya and learn about who your Mother and family was, all the while helping me run the Kingdoms. Make sure I don’t knock the thing over,” I try to joke but Jon is lost in his own head.

I see his thoughts swimming in his head before he speaks again. 

“So it is not safe to tell me here, but it is safe in Kings Landing?” he asks. 

_That is a fair question._

“No, we would separate from the group on the way South and meet a friend of mine in the Neck who would help me explain everything,” I say thinking of the friend I had not seen since the end of the war and the hard task of finding the Reed castle that would befall us. 

“But I would have to come South to know who my mother is?” he asks and I nod in reply.

He looks to the side thinking it over but soon he looks back up at me with a resolute look. 

“I apologize Lord Stark, but I must decline,’ he says and I am shocked. 

“Really?” I ask not thinking but Jon nods in return. 

“For as long as I can remember, I wanted nothing more than to know who my mother was. Nothing else would have compared to getting to learn that. But recent events have taught me that my family is here in this castle,” he says. 

_In more ways than one._

“If the price for learning who my Mother is, is going South, leaving Winterfell, then that is too high a price for me to pay,” he says and then it clicks for me. 

_Daenerys._

He doesn’t want to leave Daenerys. 

They have grown closer than I thought. 

“Okay Jon, I respect your decision, but please do me one favor,” I say and he nods at me. 

“With Catelyn no longer there to help him, Robb is going to be under a lot of pressure as Lord when I’m gone and I have a feeling he may need to be knocked aside the head a few times in the beginning. I know I have not trained you as well as I should have but just please be there for him, he will need all the help he can get,” I say and Jon immediately nods. 

“You can count on me,” he says standing clearly ready to leave but my next thought slips out. 

“I always knew I could,” I say and he pauses before nodding at me and leaving the room. 

I never thought I would see the day where Jon turned down the opportunity to learn who his Mother is, but considering everything, I have seen crazier. 

_A Targaryen alone in the world, is a dangerous thing._

My brother told me that once and it had always stuck in my brain. 

Well the two of them are no longer alone, and if I’m right, the two of them will never be alone by choice again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know?
> 
> Next up? The departure for Kings Landing


	32. The Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Royal Party leaves for Kings Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have some good news and some bad news. 
> 
> The good news is a new chapter is here! 
> 
> The bad news is I will not be posting any new chapters this year and will restart i the new year! I was planning on going a few more weeks before taking a short break, but after thinking about it, this seemed like a better stopping point and I hope you agree. And this will give me more time to plan the story and do it correctly and to the quality you all deserve.
> 
> I thank all of you for your support on this story and I hope all of you and your families have a happy and safe holidays!

**Jaime POV**

I am not going to miss Winterfell.

It is too cold here for me or really anyone who grew up in the South I’m sure. If it is this cold here, I cannot imagine what it must be like at the Wall or beyond. 

_Hopefully, I never have to find out._

I’m not sure I will ever understand anyone who chooses to live here.

We are finally leaving for Kings Landing today and while I am not looking forward to the sludge like pace we will travel at and the weeks on the road, am I looking forward to being back in the capital. 

Back to stability and familiar territory. 

Back to heat.

Once the maester had deemed Tommen healthy and strong enough to travel, our departure was imminent, everyone knew that. Cersei was ready to leave the moment we arrived. So when Maester Luwin gave his reluctant agreement, Cersei ordered our departure and the King did not seem to have any disagreements. 

I still have not had a full conversation with her since she poisoned my son. She has barely had a full conversation with anyone since it happened. She has spent her days hanging over Tommen and muttering her apology to him over and over again. 

I wanted to spend as much time in there as I could but between Cersei and the King actually spending a majority of his time in the small room, the space feels very cramped. 

And plus, right now I can only spend so much time in the same room as Cersei. 

There was a time when I would have given almost anything to spend time in a room with Cersei, but those times have decreased more and more as my want to be around her decreased as well. 

She has devolved from the women I loved into...I do not even know anymore. 

And the worst part...I still love her.   
_Why do I still love her?_

I watch as another trunk of all our shit is loaded onto one of the many carts in the Winterfell courtyard and let out a sigh. 

If there was anything good to come out of this, it was the amount of time I have gotten to spend with Myrcella over the past couple of days. 

Cersei has spent so much time with Tommen in his room, pretty much all of her time, that she has completely ignored Myrcella. She seems to understand why, but she still is only 13 years old, she shouldn’t understand everything yet. 

I have enjoyed the time I have spent with her. I have not gotten to be a Father to any of my children, if I were, they would be stoned in the streets, but with everything that has happened, and with everyone knowing Cersei was tending to Tommen, the amount of care I was taking in my “niece” didn't even raise an eyebrow. 

I am also looking forward to training Tommen when we get back to Kings Landing for the same reason, anytime I get to spend actually being able to be a father to my children, I treasure dearly as they are few and far between, and training Tommen will be no exception. 

I hear choppy footsteps come and stand beside me and I get a small smile on my face. 

“The trip to Kings Landing is going to be abnormally quiet without you there to keep me company,” I say and I do not need to look down to know he is smiling as well. 

“Is that a good thing or bad thing?” he asks and I think a moment before responding. 

“Depends on the day,” I say in response and he chuckles. 

“If you are going to miss my company so much, you could join me, join me in my piss off the edge of the world. They would call us the brother pissers,” he says with a chuckle again and I cringe at the name.

“I pray no one ever calls us that ever,” I say and he laughs earning a laugh from me as well. 

After a few moments of silence I look down at him seriously and he matches my gaze. 

“Be safe in your travels, don’t go shooting your mouth off to the wrong person,” I say and he gives me a smirk. 

“I’m a Lannister, I don’t think even someone at the wall is dumb enough to anything to me,” he says with a smile bit I look at him seriously. “Alright, well you be careful to, when was the last time a Lannister and Stark in the same place ended well?”

“It has been awhile, I don’t know, maybe we will surprise you,” I say and he just laughs as he walks away. 

It is time to leave this frozen wasteland. 

* * *

**Arya POV**

It is finally the day. 

The day I have been dreading for weeks and in the last few days the day I have been torn about. 

The day we are leaving Winterfell for Kings Landing. 

The day I leave the only home I have ever known for the hot, crowded, stuffy South. 

But I will be away from _her._

That is the only upside. 

She tried to talk to me when I went to see Bran yesterday but I just sent her a glare and ignored her, not listening to a word she was saying. Luckily, Robb was with me so her attention soon turned to her favorite child.

Bran has still not stirred at all and everyone is getting increasingly worried that he won’t. Father had tried to delay our exit but the Royal family, the Queen specifically was having none of it if what I heard was true. 

Since the Prince was up and moving and recovering very quickly, she wanted out of Winterfell. 

I had considered going and checking on him but decided I didn’t want to despite Sansa nagging me. I had told her of our conversation where he offered to have the Kingslayer give me lessons and she tried to convince me to go and check on him but I said no. 

I finish tightly and neatly folding the latest piece of clothing in the most pointless use of my time in history and that includes sewing lessons. 

All of this is just going to get unraveled on our journey who cares if it goes in looking good. 

A knock at my door that draws my attention away and I look back at the slightly open door to see Jon on the entering the room with one hand behind his back. 

Nymeria perks her head up from the corner but after seeing Jon plops her head back down. 

_I am going to miss him most._

I will miss Robb and Bran and Ser Rodrik and I know I will miss Dany a lot, but I will miss Jon most. 

At least Sansa is coming with me. 

And Father. 

“Are you still mad at me?” he asks with a smile and I can’t help but smile back. 

“Maybe,” I say trying to keep the smile off my face but I think I’m failing. 

“I don’t think I want you leaving for the South with you still mad at me,” he says with a smile but I can tell he is also serious. 

I consider letting him off the hook but instead I just shrug. 

“Well maybe this will help,” he says before removing a tiny, shiny steel sword from behind his back and my mouth drops open. 

It’s a sword! 

_Is that my sword?_

“I had them make it for you special,” he says, handing it to me. “It won’t chop a man's head off but it will poke him full of holes if you’re quick enough.”

He has a big proud smile on his face but I’m sure it can’t match the size of one on my face. 

“I can be quick,” I say and he chuckles. 

“It’s also from Dany, by the way. She said to tell you she’s sorry you won’t be able to be a part of our lessons anymore,” he says and I reminded once more why I love both him and Dany so much. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he says and I get ready to jump up to hug him but he quickly moves out of the way. 

“Careful,” he says gesturing to the sword and I look up at him in apology. 

_I forgot I had a sword in my hand. I can’t believe I even have a sword!_

I carefully put it down on the side before leaping up into his arms and he holds my small amount of weight in his arms tightly. 

We stay like that for a few seconds before he speaks again. 

“Most good swords have names you know,’ he points out and I smile before the perfect name comes into my head. 

“Sansa has her sewing needles, now I have a needle of my own,” I say and I don’t have to be looking at him to know he is smiling, I can just feel it. 

He puts me down before leaning down and grabbing my shoulder. 

“Do you remember the first lesson?” he asks and I smile up at him.

“Stick’em with the pointy end,” I say and he smiles back at me. 

“That’s right, now try to practice when you can, hopefully now maybe Father will let you get some lessons from a real teacher,” he says and I frown up at him. 

“No teacher could be better than you,” I say sincerely and he smiles for a brief moment before he looks around my room to see my clothes strewn about the room in an admittedly chaotic fashion. 

“What’s all this?” he asks and I growl. 

“A waste of time, I got this done days ago but Old Nan is making me refold them all because they are not _properly folded._ What difference does it make how they are packed they are all just going to get messed up anyway!” I say and he laughs at my outburst while I throw him a glare. 

He reaches over and picks up the sword before handing it to me carefully. 

_I love the way it feels in my hand._

“Pack this carefully, you aren’t using a toy anymore,” he says and I nod at him before I carefully set it in my trunk. 

“Well you have fun with all this,” he says before giving me a mock bow. 

I throw one of my boots at him that he quickly dodges before he slides out of the room. 

I return to my folding thinking about the new addition to my trunk and all that it is capable of. And I am unashamed that Prince Joffrey shows up in a couple of those visions. 

My attention is drawn out of my thoughts as there is another knock at my door. 

Sansa slides in the door and I give her a small smile before looking down at the shirt I’m folding. 

“I assume yours were correct the first time?” I say and she gives me a sad smile before sitting on the bed a few feet away from me and picking up a shirt. 

“Yes, it was but let me help,” she says and I nod appreciatively at her. 

We fold in silence for a few seconds before a question comes out of my mouth. 

“Are you nervous about leaving?” I ask her and her hands stop moving before her eyes come up to meet mine. 

“A little, a part of me is screaming at me to stay here but I know I want to go South. I mean I have been dreaming of it since I was a little girl,” she pauses and I wait patiently for her to continue. “But with everything that has happened...I guess I would be happier if the Prince was not also coming is all.” 

I nod in agreement and the sword in my trunk comes to mind before I respond. 

“Whatever happens, we are in this together. Nothing is going to change that,” I say seriously because it is the truth. 

I despised Sansa for years, at least as much as I could my sister, but I have quickly come to care very deeply for her. And I know she is nervous about going South but the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. 

She smiles at me before returning to the folding in front of her. As she puts another shirt in, I hear her gasp as she looks in. 

_I probably should have thought to warn her about that._

“Sorry, I forgot that was in there,” I say quickly. 

“Why do you have a sword?” she asks. 

“Jon had Mikken make it for me special,” I say excitedly, unable to hide it. 

Sansa laughs in surprise before a smile forms on her face. It is clearly not what she was expecting but unlike the old Sansa, she does not seem to mind. 

“Do you want to know what her name is?” I ask excitedly and she nods, probably just to indulge me but I press on nonetheless. 

“Needle!” I say and she quirks her eyebrow in confusion at me. “You have your sewing needles, and now I have a needle of my own.”

I do not know what reaction I am expecting but am very pleased to hear a full laugh escape her mouth at the explanation and I join her. 

We finish folding the clothes in relative peace and just as we are finishing there is a knock on my door. 

“What?” I call and Jory steps into the room. 

I can see the surprise on his face to see Sansa sitting there but he recovers quickly.

“Lord Stark says it time to say goodbye, mi ’ladies,” he says and I feel a sadness wash over me. 

“Thank you, Jory,” Sansa says and the man bows before exiting the room. 

“I guess it’s time,” Sansa says and I nod morosely. 

“This is really happening isn't it?” I ask to no one in particular and I see Sansa nod. 

Up until now I had managed to make our departure a far off thing, but no longer. I am leaving my home and I will not see it again for I do not even know how long.

Sansa pulls me in for a hug as I had not realized I had started crying. I stay there for a few seconds before she steps back. 

“Remember, we are in this together, always,” she says and I nod at her. “Do you want to do Dany or Bran first?”

I want to not see _her_ for as long as possible. 

“Dany,” I mumble before we exit the room. 

It also makes much more sense as Dany’s room is not 10 feet from mine, while Bran's is halfway across the Castle.

I knock on her door and she opens it to allow us in. She is smiling at us and I can’t help but smile back at her. 

“I was beginning to think you had left without saying goodbye,” she says in jest.

“Never,” Sansa says before moving to hug the now back to blonde girl in front of us. 

I can hear Sansa mumble something to her but I cannot make out what she says or what Dany says in return but when they disengage, I wrap my arms around her waist. 

“Thanks for the sword,” I mumble up to her and I can hear the small laugh that escapes. 

“Thanks for making me your sister and remember this is not goodbye forever” she says and I hug her tighter. 

We stayed like that for a few more seconds before I reluctantly let go. As I retreat, I open my eyes and spot a pair of boots in the corner that are much too big for Dany. 

“Whose boots are those?” I ask and I hear Dany give a startled breath and when I turn back towards her, she has a massive blush on her cheeks.

_Why is she embarrassed?_

I see her and Sansa lock eyes and Sansa gives her a small smile before walking towards me. 

“Come on Arya,” she says pushing me from the room. 

“I don’t get the big deal, I just asked a question,” I say confused as Sansa closes the door behind us. 

“Do you know whose boots those were?” I ask Sansa. 

“I have a guess,” she says with a smile but I just growl in frustration. 

_Is a straight answer so hard?_

“Who?” I ask desperately and Sansa stops her walk towards Bran’s room. 

“Jon’s,” she says and that makes me even more confused. 

“Why would Jon leave his boots in Dany’s room?” I ask and Sansa just smiles before continuing our walk but I can tell now the conversation is over. 

And now we are nearing the room _she_ is in and I am losing interest in boot questions. 

Bran’s door is open and we walk straight in and she stands as we do so. 

“Sansa, Arya,” she says and I roll my eyes. “I just want--” 

She does not get to finish sentences. 

“What you want is irrelevant,” I say cutting her off. “We are here to say goodbye to Bran.” 

I walk over to my brother's side and I do not really know what to say. I have never been great with words. Luckily, Sansa comes up and puts a hand on my shoulder before leaning down and kissing Bran on the cheek. 

“Wake soon,” is all she whispers but it gets what I want across. 

_Why won’t he wake? It doesn’t make sense._

I do not like things that do not make sense. 

I again reluctantly turn around and walk out of the room but I can’t help the feeling that I am abandoning him in some way. But as I do, I feel a wave wash through me saying it is going to be okay. I do not know where it comes from, but I believe it. 

It has a youthful but familiar feel to it and I continue to walk down the hallway. 

We exit the hallway into the main courtyard and we see so many people moving about the courtyard. 

Robb is saying his goodbyes to Father.

I see uncle Benjen riding out of the courtyard with some new Nights Watch recruits, a few Lannister guards, and the Imp in tow. 

I see the Queen and her two youngest getting into their carriage. 

I tried to convince Father to let me ride a horse but he said no. I am just happy we don’t have to ride with the Queen. Not that riding with Sansa and Jeyne and others will be a lot of fun, but it is better than her. 

I make my way to where Jon, Robb and Rickon are standing. Rickon looks very confused as I approach him but I give him a simple hug anyway. 

_I can’t imagine what he thinks of all this._

I give Jon a massive hug again before giving a slightly smaller one to Robb. I look back in time to Sansa disengaging from a simple hug with Jon for what is probably the first one in their lives. I smile at them, well more Sansa for how much she has changed for the better, not that I liked why. 

Sansa gives Robb a hug as well before me, Sansa, and Father stand in front of Rickon, Jon and Robb. 

“Next time I see you, you all will probably be decked out in all the summer Southern colors,” Robb says with a smile making the rest of us laugh. 

“Can’t speak for these two, but the bright colors never worked for me,” Father says with a smile making everyone laugh again. 

“I agree with that,” I say while Sansa just smiles. 

There is a brief moment of silence before Father breaks it.

“Girls, it is time to go,” he says and I sigh in disappointment. 

I look at Jon one last time and he gives me that a reassuring smile that I know I will miss. 

I am pulled by Father towards the carriage and before I can even think about it, we are riding out the gates. I shove Jeyne aside to look out the small window and watch as my home becomes a tinier and tinier speck behind us until all there is left to see is green grass, white snow, and the Royal Party. 

Heading for Kings Landing. 

Heading for the unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know!


	33. The First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dany is out of her room and she is uncontrollably happy because of it, but can a visit to see Catelyn and an unwelcome visitor spoil her mood?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone! I am back, thank you for being so patient and I hope you had great holiday season. 
> 
> We are back with another chapter and we are going to run through Season 1, lets see what has changed. 
> 
> Let me know how I did!

Dany POV 

Freedom and fresh air. 

Those are the words that are filling my mind right now. 

The Royal Family and all the North men accompanying them have just left and the first thing Jon and Robb did was come and let me know it was safe to come out of my “dark hole” as Robb had called it.

I hugged them both without hesitation, lingering slightly in Jon’s arms just because I can. 

I am just so excited that I would be able to leave. Out of that cramped room. The room that had become my own well furnished, well stocked dungeon cell in a way. The number of books that I finished over the past few weeks makes my head hurt. 

But that had been the only thing to command my time except for the occasional visitor. Shockingly, staring at my wall just was not very interesting. 

Sansa and Arya visited me the most out of everybody, but Robb came by occasionally when he could get away, though less often. He said that seeing me was a nice excuse to get away from the Prince and I can’t say I blame him for wanting to get away from that primpy little asshole.

 _What else did people expect from_ his _son?_

Rickon would tag along with Sansa every couple of days, sometimes with Bran also before he...and Theon, regrettably, came with Robb once. 

My most infrequent visitor among the Stark children was the one that I wanted to see the most.

The one that I prayed it would be every time I heard a knock at my door. Then I would try my hardest to hide my disappointment when it inevitably wasn’t him.

That was Jon. 

I know why he didn’t come up as often as the others. First, it was a much longer walk for him, and after what happened the first night, more eyes were on him than ever before. Lannister eyes especially.

At least that is what Robb said. The less he disappeared up halls that weren’t where his room was, the better for all of us. 

And I get it, just like I understand why I had to stay in that room all that time. Lord Stark took and is taking a huge risk in keeping me alive, let alone housing me here in Winterfell. But that didn’t make it any less boring and mind numbing staying in the same room day after day. 

It is better than running from city to city being chased by cutthroats though, that is for sure.

Jon had been keeping away from my room except for extreme few times he had come to see me, but that had changed dramatically over the past couple of days. 

Well nights also. 

I can’t even help the smile I feel bubbling inside me at the thought. 

Since he stayed in my room the first time a few nights ago, he had slept there each night since. 

Each time I answered the door, he had a sheepish look on his face, like he was still somehow worried that I would turn him away or slam the door in his face. 

_Every time it makes my blood boil thinking about what that woman did to make him like that. The hours of mental anguish he has had to endure that makes him firmly believe that he does not deserve happiness._

But I keep the ball of fire inside to myself and greet him with the biggest smile I can muster and despite himself, he always returns it before stepping up and capturing my lips in a kiss. 

There was no better feeling than when his lips were attached to mine. It made me feel whole. Feel loved. 

He would never be good with words, I learned that the first day I met him, but he showed me how he felt with the passion he pushed through his lips and the fierceness he pulled me towards him.

That feeling would be all I ever needed to hear to know what he felt. 

I feel another smile tug at my lips just thinking about it. 

After sitting in a chair beside the fire enjoying being curled up on his lap and the simplicity of being with each other with the fire crackling in the background. We would eventually collapse onto the bed, my arms wrapped around his torso and my head on his chest.

And we would just talk. I would tell him about the books I read and he would tell me about his day.

One night I fell asleep within fifteen minutes of him arriving, his comforting gruff voice lulling me to sleep almost immediately. The other we stayed up for hours into the night, talking about everything and nothing.

I let the smile light up my face as I continue my walk towards the Great Hall, unable to and not wanting to keep it hidden. 

I don’t really know where I should be heading but luckily, I see Robb turn into the corridor I'm walking down with an extremely stressed look on his face that already looks like Lord Starks. 

Not even a couple hours into this and he already looks like he could use some sleep and relaxation. But no matter how stressed he is, when his eyes travel up and meet mine a smile immediately forms on his face. 

“Dany,” he says affectionately. “It is good to see you out and about.” 

I smile back at him as he comes to stop in front of me. 

“It is good to be out and about,” I say relieved and gives me a wider smile. 

“Thank you for, you know going through that, it could not have been easy,” he says obviously not quite sure what to say but I simply give him a smile in return. 

“After all that, not only you but your entire family has done for me, it is the least I can do. I am honestly still surprised to wake up in Winterfell alive sometimes.” I say truthfully. 

“Well, not from my lack of trying,” he says with a chuckle referring back to our first meeting and I laugh along with him. 

“I’m glad you failed in that endeavor,” I say and I could not mean it more, ending up in Winterfell has been the best thing to ever happen to me. 

“Well, we wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says and I smile up at the man that has quickly become the older brother I use to dream of having.

On the nights Viserys would leave me after I “Wake the Dragon” I would pray and dream of having an older brother that instead of beating and hating me, would love and protect me.

Those dreams did not have that man as a Stark though. 

“Have you been to see Bran yet?” he asks after a pause. 

I feel guilt mixed with indecision rise in me. 

I want to see Bran, but the _other_ person in the room is who I definitely do not want to see.

“No,” I say regretfully. “I’m planning to go today, but…” 

I trail off and he seems to get what the other half of my sentence is as he nods his head in understanding. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling, but if you just ignore her, you should be okay,” he says and I nod my head in agreement. 

_It is not necessarily her I am worried about._

“I am surprised you let her stay,” I say honestly and he shrugs. 

“I have not ruled sending her away,” he says seriously, anger bubbling beneath his tone and a dark look that crosses over his face.

We stand in tense angered silence for a second before I change the subject.

“What about you, the stresses of lordship getting to you yet?” I ask with laughter in my tone, trying to lighten the mood. 

He chuckles and runs his hand through his hair, his face returning to the stressed look I saw earlier. 

“Yeah, today is mostly taking inventory of everything, but with so many people gone, everything is kind of going to shit,” he says and I laugh at him. 

“Well, you’ll figure it out I have no doubt. And if there is anything I can do to help, let me know,” I say and he nods at me.

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll see you later,”

He starts by me before pausing and turning back to me.

“I honestly do not know what they would be, but I’m sure there are things Mother would be doing right now, but…” he trails off and I nod at him to cut him off. 

“I will go see what I can do,” I say and he gives me an appreciative smile.  
“Thanks,” he says and I nod at him again before he makes his way past me, down the corridor and out of sight. 

I continue my walk towards my original destination, Maester Luwin. Knowing if anyone had things that needed done, it was him. And he might have some idea of the things Lady Stark would be handling. 

The rest of my day is spent with him, helping to finish up numerous tasks that had gone neglected over the last few weeks. It was hectic to say the least. But he assured me that in a few days things will settle down, but with some many positions now vacant, everything was as messed up as Robb said it was. 

I ran into Jon a couple of times throughout the day, he also was running around doing things for Robb, trying to help his brother in any way he could and take as much as he could off his plate.

Each time I saw him round a corner and come into my view, I could not help the smile that spreads across my face. 

I feel myself almost try and suppress it each time, afraid that someone might see or I’ll look up to a blank look on his face but then I see him give me a similar smile in kind and I am reminded that I do not have to. 

We chat for a few seconds before we chastity steal a kiss from each other’s lips before setting off to do our desired task. 

And each time as I feel him get farther away, I feel a deep worry, one I do not know where it is coming from or why I am feeling it, but it only goes away when I see him again. 

It is a worry and nervousness that I will never see him again. 

Which is just ridiculous, but the feeling remains there all the same. 

Not that my worries are unfounded. In the short time I have known him, he has gotten himself in quite a bit of trouble.

From the Wildlings, to Joffrey, to the spar against Jaime Lannister. 

I shiver just thinking about it all. 

The image of Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, standing over Jon with Jon bleeding out beneath him would not leave my mind as I could hear the faint cheers of the crowds. 

I had wanted with everything in my body to leave my cage and go down to the fight so I could see he was okay, but I resisted. 

Because I knew I couldn’t. I put my hand on the handle of my door dozens of times but there was only one thought keeping me from pulling and that was the implications if _anyone_ recognized me. 

The amount of people who would end up dead, captured, or beaten because of me. Because I didn't follow a simple request from the man who took in the daughter of the man who killed his Father and Brother when he had absolutely no reason to do so. 

I kept that thought in my mind, but the loud cheers of the fight still traveled just far enough to where I could barely hear them.

And with them came waves of feelings and emotions that I had no idea where they were coming from. 

Fear, focus, calm, anger, fatigue. 

They came one at a time, one after the other and I did not know why. 

But by the end, I was tired. 

No, exhausted, and I had not done one damn thing but sit on my bed running my hands nervously through my hair. 

Arya came up afterward and told me all about, unable to hide her happiness and pride as she described the fight in almost excruciating detail. Jon had lost but he was, relatively, unharmed which was a massive relief for me though my worry did not diminish very much. 

I let out a breath and make my way into the Great Hall where I see Robb and Theon sitting opposite Jon and Rickon. 

I make my way to Jon’s side and slip next to him so he is in between Rickon and I.

He gives me a smile, which I return but it is not until the moment I look around the table that I realize just how much has changed. 

Gone are Sansa and Arya. 

Gone is the loud background noise of all the people moving in and out. 

Gone is Lord Stark. 

“Are you okay?” Jon asks me, raising an eyebrow and my smile comes back to my face, but I am sure it is weaker than before. 

“I’m fine, I guess I did not fully realize how many people left until just now,” I say, continuing to look around the hall while both Jon and Robb nod in agreement. 

We chat for a few minutes while eating before Theon gets up to do something that I am sure I do not want to think about and not long after Old Nan comes along to collect Rickon and put him to bed. 

At some point while me, Robb and Jon are talking the Direwolves start to howl. It is Jon’s and Robb’s reaction to them that makes me notice it but we all quickly fall back into conversation. 

“I should go and see Bran,” I say out loud earning the eyes of the two boys left at the table. 

“You haven’t been to see him yet?” Robb asks in a clarifying way, to which I nod my head. 

“I need to run back to Father’s office for something then I will meet you there, Luwin has been wanting to talk to me all day at some point and he will no doubt come by there,” he says to which I nod. 

“Would you like to join me?” I ask Jon with a small knowing smile to which his eyes find the table in front of him. 

I know he probably wants to see Bran but I know he definitely does _not_ want to see Catelyn.

“It’s really okay if you don’t, Bran is asleep he is not going to be offended,” I say with a smile and it earns a small chuckle out of him. 

It always fills me with pride when I can get him to laugh as he does not do it very often. 

“I think I will go swing at the dummy for a little while, I haven’t done that without worrying who is looking over my shoulder in a long time,” he says and I nod at him before all three of us stand and I make my way out of the hall. 

I laugh internally at the thought of me being lost in these hallways not too long ago, but despite not traveling in them for a while, I am able to find my way and soon I arrive at the room in which Bran resides. 

_I stared at that map of Winterfell long enough._

The long deep sounds of Summer’s howl get louder and louder as I get closer to the room as the direwolf continues to answer the call of his pack-mates. 

I turn the corner and see the door to the room halfway open. I turn into the room, pushing the door in and the first thing I see is Summer sitting vigilantly next to the open window in the room, howling into the open air. 

When he hears me enter the room, Summer immediately turns and looks at me, I can see the wolf trying to decide my intentions but it soon turns back to the window and howls again. 

“Retched animal,” I hear someone say over the howl and I turn to see a very dirty, disheveled, and highly annoyed Catelyn Stark sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. “It just keeps howling at nothing! This is why it should be chained in the kennels.”

I feel my anger flare up at the comment and the still high lofty tone her voice holds despite everything. 

Like she finds it ridiculous that her idea wasn’t listened to. 

_She’s lucky she is here and not on her way to Riverrun._

“That is no longer your decision,” I say, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. 

Not that I was trying very hard. 

“Do not start Dany,” she says, staring angrily at me but I stare back at her unperturbed. 

“Do not start what? You're the one who beat and starved a motherless little boy because you couldn’t deal with your own shit.” 

“You do not know…” she starts but I cut her off. 

“No I didn’t, but I should have. I should have seen it from the day I met you. When Arya ran full speed into Jon’s broken ribs and I looked over to see a smile on your face, or when Jon deliberately hid from everyone what he did in the forest because of how you would react to him doing something that got him recognition or positive acknowledgement instead of Robb. That you would focus on how he put Robb’s life in danger instead of focusing on the fact that he saved Robb’s and my life. Those things and so much more should have been obvious enough for me to see what was going on, but I didn't. Nobody did. Not until it was too late.” 

I finish my thought and she is sitting back startled slightly for a few seconds before retaining her posture. 

“I was right, the day you arrived,” she says open-endedly so I take the bait. 

“About what?” I ask with a smirk. 

“I thought it was a bad idea keeping you here and now I’m sure of it. Ned should have sent you back to the whore houses of the free cities where you belong,” she says with a snarl and my anger starts to boil inside me. 

I do not know what I will do as I stare at her, but then my eyes pick up movement at the entrance to the room and I see the new lord of the castle step into the room.

“Who the fuck are you! I thought I would come in to see my Mother in the corner but I have no fucking clue who you are,” Robb says with anger and fury like I did not think the usually jovial and smiling young lord was capable of. 

He is almost steaming.

“You couldn’t stop at just one sibling, you had to do it to another one as well,” Robb asks and despite my anger at the despicable woman in front of me my heart flutters at the implication. 

“She is not your sist--,” Catelyn starts but is cut off...again. 

“Yes, she is,” Robb says with finality and my smile widens. “And attacking one of my siblings is the easy way to find yourself outside of the castle walls!”

“You can’t, you wouldn’t…” she breathes out and I fight to not roll my eyes.

“I am Lord of this castle now and I can do whatever I fucking wanting to and you’re right I would never throw my Mother out of the castle. But you, I have no idea who you are.” 

As Robb talks, I look on him with a smile on my face and even more appreciation in my heart. As we stand there, locked in an intense silence, I see a glow start to come from outside the window and Summer howls again. 

I turn and look out the window and see a growing orange glow coming from what looks like the Library. 

“Robb,” I say slightly panicked, earning his attention. His eyes are still wild with fury but as he looks at me, he must see the panic that is starting to consume me come onto my face. 

He walks over and comes up to stand by me and when I look up at him, he has a similar panicked look on his face as alarms start to sound below. 

_Fire!_

He turns and begins to exit the room before turning to his Mother. 

“We are not done,” he says angrily and he runs out the room and I follow behind him not knowing what else to do but knowing he will need all the help he can get. 

I hear Summer follow behind me for a few steps but when I look back, she is gone but I do not think on it too much.

I try to keep up with Robb but he is too fast. 

When I arrive, it is total chaos, bodies flying everywhere as I watch helplessly while the Library burns in front of me. 

When I come directly in front of the growing blaze, the heat from the fire feels like it is surrounding me. 

And it feels amazing. 

And comforting. 

And does not hurt at all.

But I do not have time to dwell on the feeling as the chaotic scene in front of me comes back into view, there are people flying all over the place and I soon join the fray thinking one question.

_What the hell is going on?_

* * *

**Catelyn POV**

A fire. 

I can’t find it in myself to care. 

After everything I have done for my family. 

For the North. 

For Winterfell. 

For my family. 

And now look at me. 

Look at how they treat me.

I look up and out the window in disgust as I see the orange glow lighting up the sky. 

But then I look at Bran and my anger dissipates like it normally does as look at my helpless little boy on the mattress in front of me. 

“You’re not supposed to be here,” I hear a menacing voice say and I look up to see a man in a hood looking down at me. “No one is supposed to be here.” 

I freeze, unable to do anything as he pulls a knife from his waist and I look over hoping to see the wolf, the one time it could be useful, but apparently it had run off when Robb and the Targaryen had. 

“It’s a mercy, he’s dead already,” he says and takes a step forwards toward Bran and I instinctually lunge at him with both hands to try and stop him. 

He easily grabs me and wraps one of his arms around my neck. He brings the knife down closer to me and I try to reach up and grab at it, trying to stop it anyway I can but then he emits a powerful and loud groan. 

I am dropped to the ground in a heap and I feel my head smacking the hard stone ground beneath me. 

I look around and my vision is a little fuzzy for a second as I reactively reach to feel the part of my neck that he had had in his grasp. When my vision focuses again, I see the wolf standing over the corpse of the now dead hooded man. It turns and looks towards me with a snarl and red mouth from the man’s blood. 

It stares at me, a wild look in its eyes for a second before it pops it’s head up and looks at Bran. Instantly it seems to calm down and immediately jumps up onto the bed and lays down next to Bran. 

There is only one thing rattling around my brain as I see it settle next to my son. 

_What just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how I did! 
> 
> Next week...we visit the Crossroads Inn


	34. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winterfell is still reeling from both the fire and the attempt on Bran's life, and Robb isn't sure he is cut out for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I hope you all are doing great! I am sorry I have not gotten to your comments yet, it is a crazy time. 
> 
> Let me know how I did!

**Robb POV**

Sleep. 

That is what I want most right now is sleep. To collapse onto my bed and sleep until winter has come and gone. But doing that seems very far away with all the shit is going on. 

My brother was poisoned and hasn’t woken in three weeks. 

The Library of my castle was set on fire and I have been up all night trying to help put it out.

And then someone tried to kill my brother.

Both before I had been Lord more than 24 hours. 

_I must be the worst Lord the North has ever seen._

The thought rings in my head and no matter how much I try to push it out of my head. 

None of those things take into account the very present fact that my loving Mother seems to have been replaced by a hateful, shallow woman who has beaten my brother.

_I can’t do this._

There is just too much, I am not ready for this shit! 

Someone else can handle this, I am not ready. 

I am currently taking refuge in Father’s office and the seemingly endlessly tall stack of paper sitting in front of me only made me feel worse. 

I try to take a deep breath and calm myself down but it seems to be getting difficult. 

I hear a knock on my door and I want to shout at whoever it is to go away but I can’t find the words. Luckily, it is only Jon who steps through the door and looks at me. 

I try to put on a calm facade but I’m not sure it is working.

“We are gathered,” he says referring to the group of people gathering to talk about who tried to kill Bran. 

I try to shake my head and stand. Shoving my worries down and be confident like I know Father would be but I can’t seem to do it, all that comes out is the one thing that won’t stop rattling around my brain.

“I can’t do this,” I say and Jon looks at me with confusion all over his face. 

“What?” he asks, stepping up so he is square with me.

“I haven’t even been a Lord for 24 hours, and I already let someone burn my castle and let a cutthroat in to kill my brother. There is someone better who can do this. I am not ready for any of this. How am I supposed to--” I am rambling and my eyes are getting more and more blurry with tears until a large whack cuts me off. 

I look up and see Jon’s hand sitting on the desk in front of me where he must have slapped it hard. I look down to see a few papers had scattered around the room due to the impact. I look up at him and he is staring at me with an intense look on his face. 

“Stop talking, close your eyes and take a breath,” he orders, which I follow. 

I close my eyes and take a breath but Jon talks again.

“No! Take a deep breath,” he orders again and I pause myself before taking in a deep breath and letting it out. 

I open my eyes and he is still looking at me but not as intensely as before. 

“Good, now that you are not about to pass out, I can talk to you about the stupidity that just came out of your mouth,” he says but I shake my head no. 

“It is not stupid Jon, I am not ready for this. I told Father and I was right,” I say trying to get him to understand but he shakes his head no determinedly.

“Do you think I was ready to fight that giant Wildling in the forest that day?” he asks me and I shake my head yes. “Well I wasn’t, I was scared out of my mind. But it didn’t matter, you needed me, Dany needed me and I was not going to let you down.”

I am surprised by the admission but I continue listening to Jon. 

“Now you have been awake for over a day, your castle was attacked and your brother threatened. I think it is fair to say you have had the worst luck as far as first days go,” he says and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my mouth at how true that statement is. “But despite all that, you need to step up, right now. Your Kingdom needs you, your family needs you. I have known you 17 years and I have never seen you back down from a challenge. Are you going to start now?”

He looks at me expecting an answer and I feel a smile spread on my face. 

He’s right, the North needs me, and I have always loved a good challenge. No one said this was going to be easy. 

“No,” I say confidently and he shakes his head in approval allowing a smile to spread on his face. 

“Good,” he says. “Everyone has gathered.”

As he says it, he walks to the door and opens it.

I take a shallow breath and exhale it quickly before standing and walking with my new found confidence out the door, Jon falling into stride next to me. 

“Thanks,” I say as we walk. 

I look over at him with a small smile on my face but he is looking directly ahead instead of at me.

“Not a problem...Lord Stark,” he says and I let out a laugh at the title. 

We continue our walk quietly and calmly as I think about what Jon had said to me. 

_That is why I wanted him around. I won’t find a better companion and friend than him._

And he’ll never be afraid to yell at me if I need it. 

We eventually walk into the Godswood where everyone is. Dany is standing next to Luwin and Theon, while Rodrik and Mother are standing opposite of them. 

We walk in and all of their eyes find us immediately. Jon walks and stands next to Dany while I situate myself between him and Theon. 

“What do we know?” I ask and Rodrik is the first to speak. 

“This dagger the killer used, it’s too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian Steel, the handle dragon bone. Someone gave it to him,” he says and I nod my head at him. 

“Someone is trying to kill Bran,” I hear from my right. 

I look up at my Mother and see she has bandages on her hands where the cutthroat’s blade dug in. She glances at Jon and Dany for a second before continuing. 

“This was the second attempt on his life, first the poisoning now this,” she says anger in her voice. 

“Why would someone want to kill Bran?” Dany asks. 

“I don’t know, but I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved,” she says and Theon scoffs. 

“The Prince was also poisoned, if the Lannisters did this, why would they poison Prince Tommen as well?” Theon asks and something occurs to me. 

“Maybe they didn’t,” I say and all eyes look towards me. “That night, the Prince drank from Bran’s cup, not his own. It’s possible poisoning the Prince was accidental.”

The circle falls into silence as anger takes a hold of me.

“They come into our home and attack our family. If it is war they want…” I start my anger speaking for me. 

“If it is war you know I will always stand with you,” Theon says, beginning to draw his sword but Luwin cuts us both off. 

“What, are you going to fight that war in here in the Godswood,” Luwin’s calm voice says. “Very easily words or war become acts or war.” 

I take a deep breath again, but this time trying to rein in my anger, because I know that he is right. This is a dangerous conversation, being hot-headed will get me nowhere but trouble. 

“We do not know the truth of this,” Luwin continues while looking around the circle before his eyes land on me. “Lord Stark must be told of this.”

“Can we trust a raven with these words?” Jon asks, speaking for the first time in the conversation. 

“I would not,” Rodrik says calmly and I nod in agreement. “He must be told, in person.”

We stand in silence as I think over what the next best course of action is. 

Someone needs to go to Kings Landing, but who? Theon?

“I can go,” a voice to my right says and I am surprised to find my Mother to be the source of the voice. 

She is staring right down at me and I look back up at her and for a second I see the loving caring women but then a voice interrupts our staring contest and her scowl returns.

“Really? You?” Dany asks incredulously, distrust and amazement dripping in her voice. 

Not that I blame her, she has not shown herself in the best way recently, her words from yesterday still ringing in my ears. 

Mother throws her a mean scowl but when I look over at Dany, she has a challenging look on her face as she glares at the older woman. I can’t help the smirk that comes on my face at her defiant look, and I notice Jon is also smiling at her. 

“I have not been in a long time but I do know the capital, and I have friends there. I will be able to keep a low profile. Robb let me do this,” she says to me and I want to believe her but I don’t know if I can. 

I look over the circle and Luwin, Rodrik and Theon have patient looks, while Dany is still angry. Jon has a smile on his face as he looks at me and I feel extremely grateful to know he is there. 

I think about all the things we need done and quickly come to a decision, so I turn towards the center and address all of them.

“I will not make this decision now, I will think it over and have an answer for all of you later,” they all nod obediently except for Jon who is still just standing there with a stupid smile on his face. “But right now we also have other things to think about. Ser Rodrik, there is a guard outside Bran’s door?”

He nods immediately.

“Of course my lord,” he says.

“Good, we need to start rebuilding the library, Maester Luwin, will you get together with the necessary people and start making plans for what we will need and how long it will take,” I say and he nods before I turn to Theon. “Go with him and help anyway you can, when you have something put together, let me know.”

He gives me a smirk before leaving with Maester Luwin and Rodrik.

I turn to Mother and continue. 

“Go back to Bran’s room, when I wish to speak with you, I will summon you,” I say and turn away from her before she can say anything. 

“Dany, we still have not gotten a complete account with what we will need as far as food and wine stores after our Royal Family pillaging, will you meet with the cooks and get an idea of where we stand?” I ask her and she gets a nervous look on her face. 

“I have never done anything like that before,” she says and I give her a smile.

“I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t think you could handle it. You're smart, I trust you to figure it out,” I say and I see Jon give her hand a squeeze where they are intertwined between them.

She gives me a proud smile before nodding and making her way out of the Godswood.

When it is just me and Jon let out a big breath and take a seat on the rock behind me and Jon still just stands there looking at me with that same smile. 

“Will you wipe that stupid smile off your face?’ I ask him and he laughs putting his hands up but the smile remains. 

“I was right, when you aren’t freaking out, you make a pretty damn good lord,” he says with a smile and I let out a small laugh. 

“Thanks,” I say looking down and I feel my exhaustion start to catch up with me but I shake it off as I stand.

“What would you like me to do?” Jon asks as we start our walk. 

I give him a side glance. 

“Sleep, you look like you could use it.”

“I don’t sleep til you do,” he says simply and I smile. “So what can I do?”

“I’m sure I can find something to keep you occupied,” I say and we begin a trek back towards Father’s office.

As we walk, I think about what Mother said and debate in my head if I can trust her to go to Kings Landing. I don’t know if I can trust her but then again, I’m not sure who else I could send that I could spare. We are down so many people as it is.

“Would you send her to Kings Landing?” I ask.

“Yes,” Jon says immediately knowing what I was talking about. Like he already knew what I was going to ask.

“Why? After what she did to you, I’m not sure I can trust her” I say and he nods next to me. 

“Way I see it, in her mind, she did what she did to make sure you all were protected. I think if you can trust her for anything, you can trust her to help protect her children,” he says and I nod along. 

We eventually reach my office and I send Jon to help oversee how bad the damage was, figuring Luwin and Theon could use the help. 

I sit at my desk and collect the documents that had scattered around the room before putting them on the desk in front of me. 

I struggle to understand some, but I had seen most of them before when working with Father so I manage. 

The question of who to send to Kings Landing is always in my mind throughout the day, never giving it my full attention but always having it in the back of my mind. 

Eventually when I stand and decide to go see how everything is doing, as I walk, I ultimately decide what I need to do. It will be hard, but I don’t want her around. 

I can trust her to protect her children but not around my siblings.

After a short meeting with Luwin and Theon, I ask a guard to retrieve my mother and return to my office. I spend a few more minutes going over some of the papers in front of me before there is a timid knock on my door. 

“Come,” I say and Mother walks through the door with a nervous smile on her face. 

The last time we were in this room together, I had just learned about what she had done to Jon, the pain and betrayal I felt still fresh in my mind.

She automatically sits in the seat in front of me and waits for me to begin. 

“I was leaning towards not sending you, for the simple fact that I’m not sure I can trust you,” I say and she looks down at her hands. “But after talking with Jon, he helped me see that I can trust you to protect your children.”

“You can,” she says immediately and seriously.

“Good, you leave tomorrow with Ser Rodrik,” I say and she gets a grateful look on her face and she looks at me caringly but I keep a scowl on my face. 

“Thank you Robb,” she says and begins to stand but my voice cuts her off. 

“But, when you leave Kings Landing, you will not be returning here,” I say and she freezes. 

“What?” she breathes out.

“You heard me, I do not want you in my castle anymore. I can trust you to protect your children, but not around my siblings. I was already thinking about throwing you out before Father left, yesterday with Dany was the last straw.”

“Robb, you can’t do this,” she says pleadingly but I cut her off.

“But I can and I am. You can go to Riverrun to be with your Father, you can visit your sister, you can go to Braavos for all I care but for as long as I’m lord, you will never be allowed inside Winterfell again,” I say allowing the days of hatred and betrayal that had been stirring come out in my voice. 

“Robb…” she tries again but I am not having it. 

“No! You do not get to beg, you lost that right, along with the right to be my mother, you lost that right the day you first laid a hand on my family,” I snarl out. 

She nods, with tears in her eyes and exits the room, with me staring at the woman I thought I knew walk out for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I do? Let me know! 
> 
> Next week, Crossroads Inn.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you guys think!


End file.
